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#unless he wants to have his life utterly ruined

imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year

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Hiya, I was reading your "how txt would sound in bed" post and was wondering if you could do the same for Stray kids :)

Your writing is amazing, thank you so much💙✌️

starting off with channie, he's not too loud i don't think.

he is very breathy and kinda more on the throaty side. that's just when he's trying to be quiet though, when you're in his studio and the boys are in the next room or and your hand just feels so good moving up and down his sensitive cock, he feels like he's losing his mind.

he isn't too much louder when you're alone but i do feel like he would be so much more whiny and when he's not whining, he's moaning and he moans with his accent and dear lord.

lixie's moans would be so pretty, so deep and rich omg. just like his deep voice normally, his moans would be the exact same.

but also in my heart and soul i think that if he got into it (if you played with his nipples), his voice would get several octaves higher.

he'd keen and mewl a lot, getting so much more vocal when he's about to cum, whining high and cute.

he'll be going red when you point it out, fucking hell imagine him with sweater paws, getting fucked out of his mind but you saying his moans are the cute is the most embarrassing thing in this moment and he just covers his face with the sweater paws with a cute little 'stoooop'.

honestly, hyunjin took me a little while because i couldn't figure it out. after some contemplation though i've come to a conclusion,

he'd be kinda a middle range in volume, not too loud or too quiet, but that changes depending on the situation.

he really is a performer and that doesn't change in bed at all. even if he's getting railed so hard he's seeing stars he still keeps note of exactly what sets you off.

exactly which noises he makes seem to illicit that hungry look in your eye. he changes based on what you like, plays with you by using it against you. whether you like him quieter or louder (you better like him louder or i don't trust you) he notices and then it's just a game to see how long it is until he starts making them in a non-sexual way in your normal life, waiting for the moment you'll snap and fuck him against the kitchen counter.

now my sweet little brat lee know would grunt and groan a lot pretty quietly because he doesn't want to moan and let you know how good he feels.

when he gets really close though or falls into subspace, he just gets so completely overwhelmed with pleasure that he really can't care anymore, utterly debauched sounds falling from those puffy lips, all swollen from how much he's bitten them. super loud and super ruined, any and every curse under the sun gasped or whined out.

it's really adorable to see him going from somewhat composed, but clearly trying his best to stay that way and then just melt away with the pleasure, dissolving into a mess, a slave to the sensations that you give him<33

the cute little puppy seungmin, he pants a lot, whimpers a bit, akin to a puppy-

but he isn't that loud in general, he'll have to place his mouth right by your ear for you to hear his tiny mewls and whispers for more, honestly it's pretty perfect for when you're pegging him in mating press or missionary, and his face is buried into your neck

he'll happily make himself a bit louder just for you but only if you ask him nicely-and only if puppy gets a reward

my little perv jisung, babygirl's a shrieker for sureee, gasping, moaning, screaming, losing the very concept of composure, thoughts a jumbled mess just because of how good you make him feel.

gives zero fucks for anyone else around-i've said it a million times and i'll say it again, there is not a single ounce of concern for common decency when he moans out loudly from the vibrating plug up his ass in a public area.

dirty talker 10000%, learned it all from the absolutely sinful-*sigh*, just check his browser search history. baby's got a mouth on him and will not shut up unless you gag him.

he also definitely gets upset when you tell him that he has to be quiet, pouting and maybe even shedding a tear, asking why you don't wanna hear his noises.

binnie, he would sound so cuteee-

it really depends where you are because he's really shy and if you're anywhere that people would possibly walk in on you (gym locker room) it's gonna be heavy breathing and the tiniest n e e d i e s t little 'please' e v e r

and he isn't that loud to begin with but when you're in private, just the two of you, looking up at you with the sweetest cutest doe eyes in the world,

then he really feels like he can lose himself into all of the sensations, he loses it real quick tbh just of how sensitive he is and can hardly bring himself to be quiet.

and lastly, with innie, poor baby just gets so overwhelmed and so flustered, he'll try to cover his face and muffle his moans until you pull his hands away (or tie them over his head). even then though he won't let you really hear him, biting his lip or swallowing the moan crawling up his throat

he'll try to bury his face into your skin, trying to distract himself, take his mind off of how good he feels while marking you all up,

when he finally does let you hear him though-it really should be a crime that he didn't let you sooner, absolutely heavenly, absolutely sinful, wholly and utterly delectable. soft whimpers and full moans, ughhhh.

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mazeinthemiroh · 1 year

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Hi, could you do a reaction of skz (if you're comfortable with the topic) where their s/o is really drunk and wants to loose their virginity but skz being sweet and all rejects because they want it to be more meaningful and don't want to "take advantage" of their s/o being drunk. (plus sorry my English, it isn't my mother tongue)

stray kids not taking advantage of their s/o when their drunk

genre: suggestive, slight angst ig?

warnings: suggestive, mentions of sex/taking of virginity, drunkenness, generally not a topic for sensitive viewers so please read at your own discretion

please like and reblog if you enjoy. feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

chan is a gentleman. i mean, that's an understatement and we all know it. the last thing he is going to do is take advantage of you when you're so completely and utterly drunk. the thought doesn't even cross his mind, and he's very firm about stuff like this. his morals ground him and he would never do that to you.

lee know

minho would never do this. not only would he not sleep with you when you're drunk off your head, but he will also scold you about it the very next morning. "you shouldn't have been that drunk in the first place" and "what happens if you asked someone else took advantage of you instead, huh?" he's more concerned for your safety and well-being over anything, and just wants to takes care of you.

changbin

if you're at a club with him and start telling him you want him to take you, he just knows it's time to go home. he knows how you get when you've had too much to drink, and have usually been extremely flirty with him in the past. but asking him to take your virginity? he knows you are way too drunk to even think. so he will take you home and make sure you sleep off your alcohol.

hyunjin

hyunjin views intimacy as such an important part of a relationship, especially if you're a virgin. he would never want to take something so important from you if you don't have clarity of mind. romance is more important to him than anything. he finds nothing romantic about taking advantage of someone under the influence. the idea is so distasteful to him and something he never considers.

han

"are you sure?" han would say, quirking up a suspicious eyebrow as you nod eagerly. this all seemed too abrupt for you to ask him such a serious request, and you made it sound so casual. that's when he knew you were drunk. "maybe another night" he'll say, brushing you off with a gentle smile. he doesn't want to ruin an important moment in your life with your drunkness.

felix

felix would never go through with something that serious unless he was certain you wanted to. when stares at your glazed-over eyes, he knows something is off. so instead, he cuddles you for the rest of the night, even though that was against your wishes at first. he knows how to soften these situations.

seungmin

seungmin immediately smells the alcohol in your breath and takes care of you for the rest of the night. when you make advances on him, he firmly tells you no, looking sternly into your eyes, all the while holding your hand and keeping you close to him. he doesn't want to hurt your feelings but he knows he needs to be firm. he won't let you go for the rest of the night.

jeongin

he's not sure what to do at all to be completely honest. he looks so lost as he stares into your drunk-dazed (stream it) eyes, seeing if he can see any traces of seriousness in them. all he does is hold you awkwardly in his arms, shaking his head as you continue to make moves on him. "no baby" he'll say gently "you'll regret it. tonight is not the night."

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chihuahuawashere · 27 days

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RadioStatic!!!!

They’re doing it freaking freaking one time when Alastor was in his deer rut and defined laws of nature and accidentally got Alastor pregnant.

Alastor freaked out because what the hell he’s a make deer also you can’t get pregnant in hell! PLUS him and Vox are still in the new stages of their relationship this is their hell this is their first time having sex man how could this happen!!

Either way Alastor dips he doesn’t want to put the burden of father hood on Vox. He’s parents were in a forced marriage because none of them thought to use protection and his life with parents who live each other were terrible. Only his mother loved him and when push came to shove and he had to kill his dad. He didn’t want to do that to his child.

He was gonna do better and do what his mother should have done. He left. He didn’t say a word because he knew that if he did he would have stayed. Asked Vox to be a father and ruin his life. So at the dead of night he left their bed and when Vox woke up he was gone. Didn’t leave a note or anything.

He gave birth with his Shadow and Nifity and Rosie by his side. But to be honest he felt more alone then ever. He most definitely suffered from PPD and Husk/Rosie took over looking after the fawn most of the time when Alastor depression hit the hardest

Husk and Rosie feel into the dynamic of good cop bad cop. Rosie is really good with kids since she’s around them all the time while Husk is the voice of reason and has to be the one that says no. But on rare occasions he’ll say yes.

Since Husk was being an amazing uncle he let him get a TV inside their house. It’s big and old and the quality is shit but it’s mush more better then going to the pub and being forced to socialize only to try and watch Dance Moms. So HEY beggars can’t be choosers.

He even lets the little one come into his room once and while to watch some cartoons (obviously when Al isn’t home otherwise he thinks he’ll finally kill him). Al has a rule that all the doors in the bedroom open unless it’s night time.

Alastor had to pass Husks room in able to go downstairs and heard singing, Alastor thought husk was watching a musical and /oh/ does Alastor LOVE musicals. He stoped by the door way to see what he was watching only to find the Princess of Hell herself fighting Katie Killjoy and singing about a “Happy Hotel”.

It’s basically a place where sinners get redeemed and go to heaven. This is perfect! Alastor doesn’t believe that a sinner can get redeemed but he knows he’s daughter will! She never sinned before nor has she been given the chance to have free will as a human to even BECOME a sinner in the first place! They’ll have no choice but to take her up there!

But first he needs to see if it’s legit enough to bring hes daughter there. Let alone if the hotel is actually real. He goes to Rosie and asked if his little miracle fawn can stay with her for a while and tells her his plan.

Obviously she agrees to take her in no strings attached. Then he goes to Husk and Nifty and tells them about the plan. Nifity agrees to do it because she’ll always follow her king roach anywhere he goes and Husk has no choice BUT to agree. (He also sees the good in that little girl and wants the best for her but won’t say it)

After awhile at staying at the Hotel Husk and Nifity help him build the courage to try and talk to Vox again. Nifity Pure Pressure him into and Husk giving him tough love. He went to the tailor fist to 1) procrastinate 2) to look his up most best when he sees Vox.

Only to see him across the Tailor shop speaking absolute slander about him threw the TVs. It breaks his heart but he understands completely where all this anger is coming from, but hearing how utterly pathetic and desperate he sounds while singing he knows that Vox doesn’t hate him entirely. So he deicides to tease him a bit (stayed gone song) but once the musical number ends he breaks down crying to his radio tower.

To Be Continued

#alastor x vox #vox x alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #voxal #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #radiostatic #staticlovetune #staticradio

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mexreny · 2 months

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you can’t trust creators anymore. you literally cannot unless someone makes an allegation, in which you should ALWAYS look at all evidence and arguments before you make an active decision to cut off support or speak against a creator. in this case, an obviously pr-branded ‘apology’ without a single sorry was the only thing Shubble and the community got publicly.

in cases of severe allegations over the years, I will admit I’ve felt uncertain or uneasy about the innocence or guilt or even severity of an important situation. because of CONSTANT STREAM of FALSE allegations made by liars and clout-seeking individuals, the concept of victim became certainly very unsteady. how would you believe an alleger or an alleged just like that when it has become increasingly common for people to create lies in order to RUIN a possible victim or a shitty person’s life? I hope that makes sense.

in the most recent conflict, however, it is without a doubt that Wilbur is completely and utterly guilty of these just foul and disturbing truths that Shubble has revealed. not ONLY does she come forward, as a respectable content creator, but other people like Wilbur’s ex-current friends are as well. it is unrefutable. he has done and continued to do fucked, manipulative, and just terribly wrong things to his “loved ones.”

but don’t create a mob against creators who haven’t yet spoken out. remember you don’t know these people. you have NO idea what they’ve experienced. you have NO idea if certain people are even trustworthy anymore. CONTENT CREATORS ARE NOT YOUR FRIENDS. THEY ARE NOT YOUR ANGELS. JUST BECAUSE A COMMUNITY THAT YOU ARE APART OF HAS GIVEN THEM A PLATFORM DOES NOT MEAN THEY ARE FULLY UPSTANDING HUMAN BEINGS. THEY ARE FUCKED UP LIKE YOU AND I, AND THEY HAVE SECRETS AND MISTAKES JUST LIKE YOU AND I.

the difference is that mistakes are one thing. active choice to abuse is another. and you have NO clue whether someone in a position of power is practicing that. you have no idea who they are.

honestly? I hope he continues getting the help he needs, if he even got any in the first place. It’s just not anyone’s responsibility to fix him and expect him to change. It’s his own. It’s not your problem. It is his. And you as a fan don’t owe him anything. He has become another number in the book of “well, I guess some people we once trusted to have a public platform and not actively harm other people and then refuse to even apologize for their actions really ARE pretty shitty.”

Above all, I know the community will come together to uplift Shubble and old friends. If you haven’t checked Shubble out, go ahead! She’s simply delightful in her streams and creates a comforting atmosphere for her community based on what I have seen myself.

And lastly, I want you to know that it is going to be okay. You are not guilty for ever liking his content. You are not guilty for ever liking Lovejoy. You are NOT GUILTY. this is a moment in time, nearly revolutionary that such a powerful and well loved creator was proven by his own words to have done shit things, and it will be okay in the end. Support the truth, and support Shubble. it. will. be. okay. ❤️

#qsmp #wilbur soot #shubble #By the way #if you’re going to dm me about how you think what I said is weird or shitty #Do it off anonymous #Cause you’re such a perfect knight in shining armor who have never had their words perceived differently than what you intended #Thanks

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kennyomegasweave · 8 months

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I LOVE this show. Absolutely every single man is dickmatized in various degrees. Completely and utterly dickmatized. Bewitched body and soul by penis.

Nick's a whole ass mess. Dressing like Top and still staying with Boston after that, quite frankly, pathetic display where Boston was throwing a lot of stones at Ray that were clearly not just about Ray. 💅

Boston's most certainly going to ruin his entire life. I don't think he's gonna break up the friend group. He might break up Top & Mew and possibly Sand & Ray, but not the other three's friendship. But he's still not some evil sociopath, he's just a 22 year old asshole. And I still don't think Boston's lied to Nick about anything except his feelings for Top. 💁‍♀️

I really REALLY want to know why he said Mew and Ray boned to Ray's face. I believed Mew last week, because why would he lie in just a scene with Ray (unless he's Thai!Dan from Gossip Girl) but thinking back, I don't think he ever said they didn't have sex to anyone but Top. He just told Ray he wasn't interested and never was.

I still don't trust Top. At all. Sorry I'm not sorry. But since I now have suspicions about Mew lying to him about Ray, they just became interesting as a couple to me. They might both just be playing each other. I also don't think either of them are in love. Sorry I'm not sorry, Part Deux. Also, it's weird as hell that every single place he goes with Mew has some random dude coming up and trying it. I get he's the hot fuckboy, but why is he running into people EVERYWHERE who he smashed, knows, or want to smash him. 🤔

I only yelled STAND UP GIRL at Sand once. I still think he needs to play New Rules on repeat until he internalizes and lives it. Having said that, I think Ray is catching real feelings. I just don't think he even knows what those are because I'm Team He Never Actually Loved Mew He Just Latched Onto The One Persom That Made Him Feel Alive After He Tried To Die. Been there, done that, took a decade to get over it. 😬

I cannot believe Sand just took Ray to his room after the fight. Like. At least make him sleep on the couch so you can cry alone in your room? I think Ray was genuine when he told Sand to just ask. Also, just straight up doing shots after the fight is something my alcoholic ass cannot even talk about, so I won't. But this is gonna get A LOT worse for Ray before it gets better.

Also, let that fight be a lesson as to why you don't get crossfaded around the wrong people. At no point should Ray and Boston ever be on two or more drugs around each other. I don't care if Boston was like NO LET'S PARTY. Ray & Sand both should have said nah and went to get that dick.

Anyway. I have no speculation cause that's not really my thing. But I love this show. I would die for this show. I would ride into battle for this show. This is a show I could follow. This is a show I could call king.

#only friends #only friends the series #Sand is still firmly in the least shady category #Mew has joined Top in the most shady category for me #Ray has moved closer to the least shady side #Nick and Boston remain firmly not even on the scale cause #Boston is an unrepentant asshole #Nick is batshit insane #and thus I don't rank them as shady or not #regular clyde

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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 months

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There’s a few things that stand out to me about today’s Silm Daily.

Firstly, it was very striking to me that agriculture is the province of both Aulë and Yavanna.

Of him comes the lore and knowledge of the Earth and of all things that it contains: whether the lore of those that make not, but seek only for the understanding of what is [I’m taking this to mean Aulë is the vala of geology and chemistry] or the lore of all craftsmen: the weaver, the shaper of wood, and the worker in metals; and the tiller and husbandman also, though these last and all that deal with things that grow and bear fruit must look also to the spouse of Aulë, Yavanna Kementári.

The reason this stands out to me is because of the Ents (whom we’ll get to in a few days) and the Entwives. The Ents come out of a conflict between the values of Aulë and Yavanna, between the natural world as a source of resources for craft and the natural world as so ething of value on its own, to be left undisturbed. But the Entwives, who love agriculture and teach it to Men, in this context feel like a union of the domains and interests and loves of Aulë and Yavanna; as though Yavanna is actively trying to reconcile those two things. And yet, the Ents and Entwives themselves ultimately split over that same conflict - whether to shape the natural world for a purpose, or to leave wilderness as wilderness whose value lies in its own being.

Though Tolkien himself was, I think, more on the side of the Ents and of Yavanna, I feel like the takeaway is that the comflict is inherently a very difficult one to resolve even when you are trying: the conflict between the needs and wants of Men and Dwarves[1] for things made from the natural world, versus the value of nature in its own right.

[1] Elves seem better at reconciling this, even Noldor - at least, we never hear the Ents complain of them, and from what Legolas hears in Eregion, stone appears to outright delight in being shaped by them.

Secondly, although it says, “From the beauty and bliss of Valinor the Valar came seldom over the mountains to Middle-earth, but gave to the land beyond the Pélori their care and their love,” it also describes how quite a few of the Valar remained involved with Middle-earth:

Manwë Súlimo, highest and holiest of the Valar, sat upon the borders of Aman, forsaking not in his thought the Outer Lands. For his throne was set in majesty upon the pinnacle of Taniquetil, the highest of the mountains of the world, standing upon the margin of the sea. Spirits in the shape of hawks and eagles flew ever to and from his halls; and their eyes could see to the depths of the seas, and pierce the hidden caverns beneath the world. Thus they brought word to him of well night all that passed in Arda; yet some things were hidden even from the eyes of Manwë and the servants of Manwë, for where Melkor sat in his dark thought impenetrable shadows lay.

Ulmo was alone, and he abode not in Valinor, nor ever came thither unless there were need for a great council; he dwelt from the beginning of Arda in the Outer Ocean, and still he dwells there…it was by the power of Ulmo that even under the darkness of Melkor life coursed still through many secret lodes, and the Earth did not die…nor has he ever forsaken Middle-earth, and whatsoever may since have befallen of ruin or of change he has not ceased to take thought for it, and will not until the end of days.

Yavanna also was unwilling utterly to forsake the Outer Lands; for all things that grow are dear to her, and she mourned for the works that she had begun in Middle-earth but Melkor had marred. Therefore leaving the house of Aulë in the flowering meads of Valinor she would come at time and heal the hurts of Melkor; and returning she would ever urge the Valar to that war with his evil dominion that they must surely wage ere the coming of the Firstborn.

Oromë tamer of beasts would ride too at whiles in the darkness of the unlit forests; as a mighty hunter he came with spear and bow, pursuing to the death the monsters and fell creatures of the kingdom of Melkor, and his white horse Nahar shone like silver in the shadows. Then the sleeping earth trembled at the beat of his golden hooves, and in the twilight of the world Oromë would sound the Valaróma his great horn upon the plains of Arda; whereat the mountains echoed, and the shadows of evil fled away, and Melkor himself quailed in Utumno, foreboding the wrath to come. But even as Oromë passed the servants of Melkor would gather again; and the lands were filled with shadows and deceit.

However, except for Ulmo, this involvement is occasional and limited.

The third thing I noticed is how hard it is to put the Silmarillion in an order that makes sense! We’re not even up to the awakening of the Elves yet, and already it’s talking about Vanyar and Noldor and Teleri and their relationships with the Valar! This isn’t one of my reorganizations, this really is in Chapter 1, “Of the Beginning of Days”. Chopping it out and moving it so ewhere else and trying to get it to mesh seemed harder. All my sympathies to Christopher Tolkien!

I guess a fourth thing of note is the description of Manwë. He’s the king of the Valar, but all his values and interests tend away from from power or control: air, which is the most free and amorphous and least controllable of substances; poetry and song, which require no physical resources to make. It does fit with Tolkien’s ideals that if someone has to have power, it should rest with the people who least want it. (Hmm, now I want conversations between Manwë and Finarfin!)

#tolkien #the silmarillion #valar #manwe #ulmo #yavanna #aule #ents #entwives #silmarillion daily

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atsadi-shenanigans · 11 days

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Feeding Alligators 48 - Astarion and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Astarion takes a walk about.

On AO3.

Astarion should be having the time of his life. Warm sunlight filters through the mottled treetops to tingle his ever-chilled skin. If he stands still enough, and finds a patch open enough, he can soak it in until the warmth seeps down to his aching bones.

This week has been the first time in two hundred years of unlife that his joints haven’t hurt.

And more than that, his mind if clear and strong. His own. He thinks what he wants, he says what he wants, and he does what he wants. Which is why he’s stalking along some overgrown trail through the trees, scenting the air for the gamey tang of a nice, little snack.

That bastard Cazador is gone. The dark, oppressive presence has been obliterated from his mind for the first time in memory.

There is the slight shiver of an illithid tadpole behind his eye, but the parasite is a worry for another day (and possibly even a benefit).

His steps are lighter than they’ve ever been. Body lithe and strong. He’s been eating well the last few days. Been eating very well, and he can’t help but wonder if this is how a vampire spawn ought to feel (when he doesn’t have a sadistic bastard feeding him vermin once every tenday or so).

He should be enjoying this. Should be basking in his newfound freedom, his new power.

But that continued freedom and power all depend on one alien, idiot yokel and she has utterly failed him.

The wind shifts. He pauses. Turns to his left. Something off the trail, something his senses pick up as tantalizing, even if he can’t yet identify it.

Eleanor.

What a stupid name. A stupid name for some country bumpkin. She’s ruined everything. He has a nice, simple plan. It works every time. Or nearly every time.

She’d been receptive to his advances! She’d joked back, in an almost delightful way, even. She’d at least smile quietly as he talked, which was refreshing in and of itself. And he’d felt her trembling when he got near. Heard the way her pulse spiked like a cornered little rabbit. The rich scent of her blood rising to the surface of her skin. He knows all the signs of a successful seduction; she’d agreed.

And then she stopped him. She’d lured him out there, made him wait in the blasted trees with his shirt off like some…some green teenager. She’d let him close, let him say all his lines, only to refuse him.

The others must have put her up to it. He’d caught their whispers—the big tiefling wasn’t especially quiet. They’d known what he and Eleanor had planned, and they put her up to making a fool out of him. It was the half-elven cleric, he has no doubt. She’d come strolling back, nearly arm-in-arm with the bumpkin, the both of them smiling and giggling.

Astarion has very little pride left in him, if he can claim even that. But this rankles.

She should have been flattered. Someone like her doesn’t get the chance to bed someone as beautiful as him. She’s nothing special—plain and large, with dark hair cut short and dark eyes better suited to a…a dairy cow (except no dairy cow ever looked down on a group of fake paladins with that level of predatory cunning, which absolutely did not send a shiver down his spine).

Unless he made a mistake somewhere? Did something wrong?

That tang in the air again. Stronger, now. Something heavy and meaty, something that makes his fangs itch. He pads on, silent as the grave he left behind.

No, no. He didn’t misstep. He’d flirted, she’d flirted back—she’d played coy the entire time but some prey liked to be chased like that. He’d worked her like a particularly stubborn lock, rusty in the turning mechanisms, squealing as he tinkered before she finally clicked.

Unless she wasn’t playing coy?

At this, he stops. Blinks up into golden sunlight.

…maybe she really was just stupid? Too dense to register his interest? Or unused to attention from someone on his level, the poor thing. Wasn’t used to someone doing more than bending her over a hay bale for fifteen seconds.

Ah! The scent carries something new. Something he knows.

Blood.

Every muscle pulls tight and trembling. His mouth floods with saliva as all his senses hone in on that delicate curl of the breeze.

He’s been eating well, but he is a vampire. He’s always hungry. Especially after that spectator nonsense (the bumpkin at least had the right instinct in bolting; his only qualm about the entire thing was himself getting pinned down before he could follow her).

Unless, his mind whispers and he almost stops again. Unless the coyness was an act for her.

That accent and crude language when she does speak, it smacks of a bumbling peasant. Yet she’d stabbed that gnome at least five times before she lost her knife and settled for punching the dead face. She’d shoved that druid woman off a cliff with almost no hesitation. And she just ripped a spectator in half with some alien bomb. To say nothing of the sheer viciousness of her plan for those paladins.

Or the cultists and the owlbear.

She makes sure they all know she’s helping every dirty wretch they come into contact with. Oh, she always frames it as just so happening to align with their own interests, but they all see past that. The others won’t question it—it’s not the done thing, darling.

The blood scent grows strong. Thick enough he can almost lick it from his lips. A heart beats up ahead. Confident and sure, the beat steady, th-thump, th-thump, th-thump. The sound of bone cracking. Something large snuffling.

A bear, he sees as he scuttles up a nearby tree. Not full grown, he suspects, but plenty big enough to swat a man’s head from his shoulders.

Astarion crouches there, considering.

Risky prey. This one can fight back. The smart thing to do would be giving the beast a wide berth and finding something softer to sink his fangs into.

But she made a fool out of him. The bumpkin, with her blank face and blank stare and…and calculating eyes, like she can see past the mask he’s crafted so carefully. The one he now wears so effortlessly. The one that captures prey, lures it back. The right smile, the lightest touch along a neck or a shoulder (the cold revulsion he swallows down so deep he can barely feel it tugging at his innards anymore).

It had worked on her. Until it hadn’t. And it had felt glorious to show her in the morning when she emerged from the woods (she’d spent the night out there?) (with the half elf, because it had been a setup, he’d seen it as clearly as the triumphant little smirk the cleric had worn).

He let that bumpkin see he could reject her right back. She hadn’t made a fool out of him, oh no. He’d make a fool out of her. And she must have known it, perceptive (simple) creature. She’d scurried off so quickly after he turned down the raggedy blanket she dragged back.

The woman can’t even read. Who the hells does she think she is? Some milk maid, an upstart peasant too clever for her own good. Destined to return to her hovel and marry another illiterate, human peasant and squirt out four or five squalling babes.

Disgusting.

He needs to weave a web, lure one of the others to his side. Alas, the only tolerable one who would have him is the wizard. Except he’d shot Astarion right down.

He knows marks. Who needs a kind ear, who longs for a cool touch or a whispered invitation. And who, despite his best charms, isn’t on that particular market. And the casual, “In silence” the wizard had tossed back at him that morning fell solidly into the latter category.

Shit.

The Blade of Frontiers was too noble (and he watched the bumpkin a little too closely, gods, he was halfway besotted already). The cleric too prissy (and decidedly not his taste). The tiefling’s skin was literally on fire.

The gith? She wouldn’t be the worst bed partner he’s ever had. He’s been handled roughly plenty of times in the past, and at least this time, he’s properly fed enough he might be able to carve out his own sliver of bliss from it.

Except.

The bear rips off a strip of belly. It’s found itself a fat pig to feast on, and it buries its snout inside the guts, snuffling as it slurps up the sweetmeats.

Except even the gith had asked their dear, precious leader about him. And she’d all but accused him of inadequacy. She’d barely even sampled the goods, and she had the audacity to suggest he wasn’t the most proficient bed partner for these ruffians within a hundred miles? It was preposterous.

But even worse, the others listened. He could see it in the way they looked at him as they all trudged along. Could feel the stares as they made their way from the spectator corpse to find somewhere to make camp, the wizard prattling on about some bottle.

It’s why he left. Away from them, away from that damned bumpkin and whatever she thinks she knows. He’s finding himself a proper meal. Something he can really tear into.

That bumpkin has them all wrapped around her finger. Useless, no skills, as helpless as a babe; yet they all look to her, now. And how can he ever forget that the others only tolerate him because of her good graces. Should he lose those graces, should she deem him unnecessary…

To the hells with it.

Astarion pulls his knives. Waits until the bear sticks its blood-slicked muzzle back into the flopping body of the pig again, and drops.

It’s a perfect leap. His knives sink into the shaggy hump right between the shoulders. The beast squalls and bucks. Flails itself up and the whole hide shivers so hard, Astarion is nearly thrown off.

But he’s not here to ride a moaning bear around the forest, he has to get to the—

The world tilts rather strangely.

He slams into the ground and some four hundred pounds of angry bear lands on him. The knives slips free. The animal squirms over and turns.

It…it threw itself on to its back, onto him. Which means—

“Shit,” he says and rolls as the bear lunges, all teeth and claws and carrion breath.

He’s not quite fast enough. Those claws rip right through the sleeve of his light armor to gouge his bicep. The strike is deep, near to the bone. He’s been cut and sliced and opened up enough times to judge these sorts of things. And while such an injury might have startled a mortal into a gasp or a hesitation, he’s doing what he knows and tucking the pain down as best he can.

Then the bear is up. Lifts a paw to rake him open again. But that gives him an opening, and he’s been so delightfully fed recently.

Astarion lunges, rolls, tucks himself tight and scrabbles underneath the beast. Claws catch his back, but at this angle, they shred only the padded leather of his doublet and not his skin.

Alas for the bear, Astarion is close enough to whip his knives around and slice cleanly through the tendons connecting feet to both hind legs. The bear squeals as it comes crashing down.

No time to gloat—a wounded animal is a dangerous animal, as Astarion is all too familiar with.

He leaps atop the creature once again. But this time, is aim is different. He scurries up as the bear thrashes. As it starts to roll, and he can’t have that. Everything moves so slowly now that he’s dined on her the blood of thinking creatures.

His knife gleams in the light. His strike is true. Into the throat. Not aiming for an artery, this time, nor for soft tissue. He wants to enjoy this.

He feels the blade’s edge grate against bone. Adjusts the angle so the tip slips between vertebrae to sink into the spine. A thrust, a twist, and something crunches as the bones come apart and the spinal cord severs.

The bear goes limp. All but for the head; dumb, animal eyes rolling in rage and pain and terror. The jaw snaps, rancid spittle flying in flecks. It tries to pant, to growl or roar, but the sound is weak and slow. Just enough to keep it from asphyxiating immediately.

Now Astarion can stand. Can wipe his face and check his arm—oh yes, that’s certainly to the bone and this padded doublet is ruined. He’s free to pace around to the back of the animal. It tries to follow with its gaze, but the muscles of its neck don’t work well anymore, so it can only twitch and moan and wheeze as he settles on his knees and tilts that big chin up.

The fur is not fun—it never is—but at least this fur only smells of meat and game and oily bear, and not reeking of sewer and rot. But he finds the big artery easily enough, pulsing and thumping and calling to him, and he to hells with being fed, he is ravenous.

He bites. He drinks. And drinks. And drinks and drinks and drinks and the taste is rich with fat, with iron, with the fresh pig the bear had been feasting on. With berries and apples, nuts and bone marrow. Cool dips into the river and lazy afternoons spent slumbering in the warm sun.

He drinks more than he ever has in his life. Drinks past what he thought was physically possible. More than he could ever imagine. So much of it, so much life pouring into him, diffusing through him. Loosens twisted muscles and soothes cracked bones.

When he senses the end—he’s not sure how, he just knows—he wrenches himself up. Blinks and the forest shimmers around him. His thoughts are light and…and fluffy. Like sinking into something…something soft? Yes, he decides. This must be soft, because it doesn’t hurt and it’s not cold and not pain. This is soft.

A sound startles him. But it is him. He laughs. Does it again, just because he can. Just because ugh, disgusting worm aside, his head is his own. There’s no…no orders. No pressure. No bastard looming in his mind, cold shackles biting into tender flesh.

Just him and that swimming, golden light and his newfound drinking partner. He’s somehow sprawled on his back over the bear’s side. He gives it great shoulders a pat.

“Not bad, eh, my furry friend?” he says.

The bear doesn’t move. Because it’s dead. Right.

He should…hmm. What should he do? He’s got his meal and he’d usually head back to their miserable camp to see if he could fluster that strange, quiet bumpkin woman—he’s not keeping track, per se, but he’s on at least fifteen different counts—

Eleanor. That…that infuriating woman.

“Gods,” he says and runs his palms down his face. Oh, he’s got blood on his hands. And his face. Oh gods, is it in his hair?

That woman is a godsdamned menace. There’s just something so…so…it’s her godsdamned eyes. Something lurking in those dark, dark depths. Something that—were he a man so inclined to things like “introspection”—he might call recognition. She refuses to die. Dropped into a foreign land, a foreign world, and she has no useful skills (how pathetic is that?) and can’t even speak properly even when a wizard and a withered old corpse supply her with a magic language potion.

Yet she’s already built herself a cozy little spiderweb of allies, hasn’t she? Got them all in her clutches. Already building a foundation from which she can start gathering power. It’d be impressive if it was something he could steal from her.

Except that she made a fool out of his perfectly-played seduction and without that, he has nothing. He is naked to whatever Cazador throws at him, because that bastard will come for him.

“Fuck,” he says. He only slurs a little.

The bear doesn’t answer.

“You’re no fun,” he says.

He sighs. The very pleasant hum dims a touch. It won’t last too long, he’s sure. His undead corpse is a hungry thing, after all.

He’ll have to go crawling back.

“Godsdamnit.”

Put on his mask and swallow the frayed shreds of pride he clings to. Make himself agreeable and welcoming and coax her back into flirtation. Maybe take it slower, this time? Woo her? (He hasn’t wooed anyone, not actually, in…he’s not even sure.)

Present himself as understanding, perhaps unknowing of whatever scheme she and the cleric have been up to. She’d simply caught him off guard and he—understandably, just look at him—hasn’t much experience with the slower route. But he can make himself into what she needs (that part is not for her to know). And if that’s becoming the joke to their little band of “heroes,” if he’s to be the besotted fool for her to string along, well.

Well.

He’s done far more humiliating things for far, far less.

Secure her loyalty. Securing her means securing all of them, and all that murder and magic and self-righteousness pointed right at that bastard’s face? It might win him his freedom.

Or at least by him enough time to get his own winsome self to safety.

Astarion sighs. The light has lost its golden hue as the sun sinks behind the trees. Twilight approaches. He’ll have to simply do what he always does and push through the unpleasantness for the reward at the end.

One that isn’t breadcrumbs.

His feet are lighter than ever as he staggers walks back to camp. So much life! A whole bear’s worth. And it was delicious and thick and…

No.

And it was…so much. Just so much.

No, he’s not going to think about that.

About how watered down it still was?

No. It was delectable.

But not as delectable as her—

Firelight! The group all together and safe and doing whatever it is they do, throw rocks at each other, most likely. He searches for the crop of short, dark hair. He’ll apologize. Plead if he has to. He’s no stranger to that, and he doubts she’ll laugh and mock him openly (that would ruin the image she’s cultivating), and she doesn’t even own a set of pliers—

And anyway. Slow. He’ll be slower, this time. Ease her into it (and past that damned cleric). He does not doubt he’ll succeed this time. He’s stunning. And he thinks he knows the game she’s playing, now, and can properly adjust his hand for it.

Oh, there’s the tiefling. She’s a boisterous sort. He raises a hand to catch her attention because surely that mountain of muscle—he can’t actually blame the bumpkin for being smitten with all that; if the woman wasn’t literally on fire—

But the tiefling turns. Spots him.

There’s something wrong with her face. With the way her lips pull tight and tremble. Hells, her whole body is twisted up, like she’s been wounded or is in pain or—

The Blade of Frontiers propped up on a stump near the fire and a sort of covered area nearby, where the wizard and the cleric stand all agog and grim. And there, at their feet on her back, clutching some mangy, disgusting toy bear, lies Eleanor.

Her eyes are closed. Her face is slack. Her chest does not rise and her veins and arteries are silent.

She’s dead. Eleanor is dead.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Astarion says.

#feeding alligators fic #these two shitheads #astarion fic #tavstarion #astarion x tav #slow burn #demisexual tav #plus size tav #astarion is an ass #he's got good reason #but he's also just an ass #the bear drinking scene

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sisterofficerlucychen · 1 year

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in this essay i will explore why halo by beyonce fits chenford perfectly because i’ve lost my damn mind, yet again. i mean what else is new, really? anyhow, buckle in and enjoy the ride! ♡

Remember those walls I built? Well, baby, they're tumbling down And they didn't even put up a fight They didn't even make a sound

who had walls when we first met him? who was utterly broken and just trying to survive? tim. while lucy didn’t necessarily come into tim’s life trying to break his walls down, she definitely succeeded in doing so. she helped bring back the light inside of him and reassured him that he was safe through her action and words. every single moment they’ve had since the beginning has progressed in tumbling down the walls tim built because of all the trauma he’s endured. while it was something that he probably didn’t realize at first, once he did, there was no going back. because he’s the thing, who has tim always listened to? lucy — stopping him in front of isabel’s apartment, making him reflect back onto the experience with the gardeners, fixing things with genny, even encouraging him to listen to ashley. she’s always been his voice of reason and the one person he’ll listen to even if he’s moping or arguing about it.

but here’s the thing, this also fits lucy. as self-aware and as much of an open book as she is, lucy has walls. they’ve just been so much more well hidden than tim’s. she’s always had commitment issues. jackson points it out once when he tells her he knew about her and nolan; tim points it out twice, once after she’s dealing with the break up with emmett then again when chris ambushes her about moving in. relationships aren’t her strong suit and my take on it at least is that it stems from her relationship with her parents. for two psychologists and a psych major, the chens are their own little bubble of complicated but it’s so easy to see how this has affected lucy and caused her to put up her own walls. tim being the exception to this rule. he may have decided she was worth his time to train but she definitely decided that he was worth her time to understand. which i think kind of comes into play with tim being the only person to break down those walls.

“if we do this and it doesn’t work, i’ll have ruined the most important relationship of my life.” it wasn’t until this moment that both walls completely fell. they both jumped into relationships with other people and stayed in them because it was safe, because the stakes were to high for either of them to even think that being with each other was a possibility until lucy said that. it placed them both on the same page.

It's like I've been awakened Every rule I had you breakin' It's the risk that I'm takin' I ain't never gonna shut you out

which brings us to this part. tim’s reaction when lucy confessed this. TIM’S REACTION WHEN LUCY CONFESSED THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it’s like he saw his life flash before his eyes in the sense that a. it confirmed she had feelings for him too and it wasn’t one sided and b. that for once in his life, he was someone’s top priority because even though nothing romantically had happened until this point, lucy saying this was so crucial because everybody else had put him second: isabel (to drugs), rachel (to a dream job), and ashley (to not wanting to be afraid of the what if’s). anyway, i guess what i’m trying to say is tim’s reaction was that first lyric. though him leaving lucy’s apartment in 4x22 also gives the same vibes. BUT THE IMPORTANT THING HERE IS HOW THIS VERSE IS ESSENTIALLY 5X08. because here’s the thing, this is: “some things matter more”. tim does not break the rules. ever. except this was perhaps the biggest risk he’s ever taken and the man didn’t even blink. the “unless it is” when he tells her that thEY ARE WORTH THE RISK. THEY ARE WORTH THE EFFORT. for someone who pushed everyone away at his lowest point, who tried time and time again to push lucy away, this was the moment where he welcomed her with open arms and embraced their future together knowing it was the beginning of something that mattered more.

Everywhere I'm lookin' now I'm surrounded by your embrace Baby, I can see your halo You know you're my saving grace

they’ve saved each other, time and time again. there are so many moments in the literal and figurative where they have saved the other: lucy pulling tim out of the line of fire when he was shot on her second day; tim giving her the ‘bradford special’ which probably saved her life when she was shot and it caught the bullet; the entirety of day of death; lucy believing in tim enough that she recorded an entire audiobook for him; lucy helping him with the ordeal with his father; tim giving her ring back and the survivor speech when she was still struggling. they’ve always had each other’s back, no matter where they fall from they know the other person will catch them.

not only this but they are 100% the other’s safe space. one thing that always has me on the floor sobbing is any time lucy feels like she’s stuck, it’s tim she literally turns to. i keep thinking back specifically when they were in their ‘pining/angst era’ and despite things being awkward between them, lucy turned to tim immediately when she felt cornered. remember when bailey was in the tank asking for nolan? lucy got stuck, she didn’t know what to say or how to lie and she desperately turned to tim to save her. same thing when grey asked if there was a reason they couldn’t ride together. she awkwardly tried to come up with an answer and ended up turning to tim for him to answer the question.

Hit me like a ray of sun Burning through my darkest night You're the only one that I want Think I'm addicted to your light

lucy is absolute sunshine. she is a literal ray of light that sees the best in people, she’s compassionate and empathetic, she doesn’t give up on others too easily. this is important because of when she came into tim’s life. she saw the worst version of him and decided that he was someone who was worth the effort in trying to get to know and understand. the more she learned about him, the more compassion she showed him.

every obstacle tim has ever faced since they’ve met, she’s been by his side. obviously, the range of her involvement depends on the season and where the progression of their relationship is but nonetheless, she’s been there for him. the beautiful thing here is that it works both ways.

he’s also always been there for her. from when he stayed with her in the hospital after she was rescued to when they learned rosalind escaped and his immediate reaction was to comfort her as he squeezed her hand before taking them somewhere private to check on how she was doing. tim may be a ‘grump’ but it doesn’t mean his light doesn’t burn just as bright because he is also sunshine in his own way. which is something lucy knows. the way she’s been sticking up for him since season 1. she’s said it too, comparing kojo to tim, when abigail commented that he was all bark with no bite, coaching little league. tim is just as much sunshine as lucy is in parallel ways.

they are who the other needs in the toughest, darkest times because they know how to support each other. they are each other’s light and each others rock.

I swore I'd never fall again But this don't even feel like fallin' Gravity can't begin To pull me back to the ground again

who tim dated after isabel is interesting because of how it can be linked to lucy. his relationship with rachel was a direct correlation to lucy getting involved. they made a bet with each other and she won short sleeves, he momentarily won the girl. his relationship with ashley is a little more complex to tie to lucy but i’d argue you still can because the green dress callback basically confirmed that there was clearly something there when they saw each other at wopez’s wedding at the end of s3. by the time tim met ashley, tim and lucy had already fallen for each other and both were denying or hiding their feelings. did he date ashley because he couldn’t be with lucy? i don’t know. he seemed to genuinely like her at first but i do think he stayed with her because of lucy. that double date should have been the biggest red flag for all of them, especially chris and ashley of not getting invovled with them. yet nonetheless, they both continued to explore their respective relationships.

except neither relationship was clearly meant to last. they both stayed in them because it was safe and it was perhaps easier to be with someone they did care about but not were in love with than to be alone and without the person they actually wanted to be with.

but going back to that first line of the verse. i don’t think tim considered falling in love again with someone who truly loved him back until lucy. rachel was fleeting, the job in new york was more important than her relationship with tim; ashley didn’t want the same things he did and would tim have settled? maybe, who knows. but lucy. she’s worth the effort, she’s worth the fight, she’s someone who wants what he does. this is the part that at least gets me because i do think tim had resigned to not having the life he wanted and here’s this absolute ray of sunshine who has basically confirmed to him that she wants that same life too and that he is worth the effort, that he matters more.

additionally, i think this also ties back to the slow burn. the way they fell for one another happened in a way where you can’t really point out where they fell but rather when they knew. every little moment, every scene captured something new with them. it was unexpected and while it was scary, once they realized where they stood, they were both in it without a doubt. i know we’ve yet to see them test the “you deserve to be with someone who’s worth the effort” but even in what we’ve seen like when they were struggling about how working in the same chain of command affected them, breaking up was never an option. they were going to work through it one way or another

in conclusion because oh my god i wrote a novel??? but also if you’re still reading this i love you so, so, so much?? i feel like i should buy you coffee or something for reading my late night ramblings. ANYWAY, i think this song just perfectly embodies how they decided to take the risk and is essentially the cumulation of their slow burn. it feels very much like the “some things matter more” because despite the obstacles that they’ve faced, they’ve made it to each other. they are the other’s light, they are the other’s person, they are the other’s love of their life.

fin.

#the rookie #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #chenford: an essay

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inexplicifics · 2 years

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I'm curious about a Perspective Flip for Geralt's view of the auction scene for Stop One Heart From Breaking, but you've mentioned Geralt's perspective is difficult for you to write, so again, maybe not. (Unless you feel inspired!)

So I suppose what I'm wondering/asking is either a Time After Time for They Have to Take You In (which I really like!), and seeing their conversation/Geralt trying to make it up to Jaskier and/or any Perspective Flip for Gods Don't Save Me.

(Also, if you really wanted to do some emotional damage, you could do For Want of a Nail for I Would Beat With Your Heart As It Beats. Specifically, what if Eskel *was* that one minute too late? But I think most of your readers could probably guess how that Bad Ending plays out, and I'm frankly nervous to ask. (And arguably that's a major detail. But I want to gift this terrible thought to others.) )

Sorry for the long ask, but I got excited.

Apparently I Shall Not Live In Vain Geralt is more talkative than AW AU Geralt!

Geralt hates omega auctions as he hates very few other things in the wide and terrible world.

They stink of fear and misery, and the omegas huddled on the stage are too thin, too cowed, too broken. Omegas are meant to be cherished, but even mated omegas among humans are too often treated as chattel…and ‘ruined’ omegas are treated worse than any peasant would ever treat dog or pig or cow. If given the opportunity, Geralt would cheerfully slaughter every single slaver, every leering beta and gloating alpha who gathers to watch and bid on the battered omegas on the stage.

He would have sent one of his pack-brothers, but…no. Eskel, even-tempered and patient as he always is, would be able to do this without showing any of the anger roiling beneath his calm facade, but Eskel is given so much crap by humans who fear his size and scars that Geralt can’t bear to think of making him endure yet more of it. And Lambert, their little hothead, probably would end up stabbing someone, although whether the injury would be fatal is rather a coinflip. Maybe when they had Remus to keep them all on an even keel, Lambert could have borne it…but then, if they still had Remus, none of them would need to come to an omega auction.

And Geralt’s senses are the keenest; of all of them, he is best able to find the omegas’ scents in the mire of other smells in the center of a town.

So here Geralt is.

He has been to four auctions in the last two months, and hated every one worse than the one before. Which, given that he hated the first one worse than seeing Eskel get mauled by a katakan, is saying something.

The worst bit - one of many worst bits - is that he has to get up near the stage, close enough that he can smell the omegas as they’re brought forward. If he picks an omega whose scent won’t mesh with his pack’s, this whole miserable endeavor will be for nothing.

It might still all be for nothing. A compatible scent doesn’t guarantee the omega will be what they need. Whoever it ends up being may well have a terror of witchers - or of alphas - that can’t be overcome, or be utterly unsuited to a life of travel, or hate them all on sight. But Geralt has to try. His pack is fracturing at the seams, for all that Eskel tries to hold them together, and there aren’t going to be any more Wolf omegas.

So.

He waits with painful patience as omega after omega is dragged forward; he can’t pay attention to the auctioneer’s patter, not without losing his temper immediately. As if people could be reduced to nothing but what’s between their legs, what pleasure others can wring from them before they die.

Not that Geralt himself is any better. He hates himself, quite a lot, for standing here, for sniffing as each omega is brought forward, for dismissing them one by one for lack of the scent he needs. Knowing that if he does choose one, he and his pack will be far better to them than any human alpha would be, is no sort of consolation. But he would do far worse than this for Eskel and Lambert.

He would do anything for his pack. Anything at all.

Eight trembling, miserable omegas have been brought forward and sold, and Geralt is wishing quite ardently that he could draw his swords and slaughter every single alpha who has bid, and the beta auctioneer and slavers for good measure, when the ninth omega is brought forward:

A tall young man, brown-haired and blue-eyed and quite pretty, though that’s not really relevant to what Geralt needs. Geralt breathes in, trying to ignore the scents of misery and filth, and almost staggers.

Cinnamon and citrus, bright and warm and perfect.

Geralt waits until the bidding is nearly done, and names a price that’s high enough that no one even dares attempt to challenge it.

The omega smells even better up close. There’s clear intelligence in his bright eyes, and he doesn’t scream or faint or try to flee.

That’s good enough to be going on with. Geralt will let his pack-brothers handle the explanations. He’s done his part.

He’s found them their omega, and someday, perhaps, the omega will forgive him for it.

Someday, he might even forgive himself.

#questions answered #fic specific asks #snippet #i shall not live in vain 'verse #geralt #jaskier

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yamameta-inc · 2 months

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vvtmb au sparknotes:

shouyoutsuro is a vampire. like an antediluvian-level vampire. very very very very old

oboro is his progeny, making him Also ancient as fuck

gintoki, takasugi, and zura are human vampire hunters. sakamoto is a normal relatively young vampire with no noteworthy lineage or power to speak of

the naraku is a new-age cult that utsuro runs out of a tall building downtown (affectionately called the tower by us). the sect's "believers" live in the tower (as you do in a cult)

to officially join the cult as an adherent you just have to do a funny little ritual where you imbibe utsuro's blood. this will create a blood bond and turn you into his ghoul but don't worry about it

utsuro rarely comes down from the penthouse where he lives. the day to day running of the cult is left to oboro (who may be an ultra-powerful ancient vampire but he knows everything about spreadsheets... and he operates the CCTV cameras... and he makes all the Appointments... and he has to deal with the 'investors' and business partners.... and make sure the chores are done)

the reason oboro has to do everything is that no one around keeps their competence for very long due to the fact that utsuro's blood is Literally Too Potent For Human Consumption even though the naraku only get a drop or two every month. normally a domitor's blood will start slowly affecting a ghoul and make them become more and more similar to the vampire. well in utsuro's case it erodes their souls and hollows them out pretty fast. they can still accomplish all sorts of tasks but unfortunately that doesn't include spreadsheets, task management, or customer service because none of those are skills they were good at in the first place.

since this is built on a villain au skeleton, gintoki makes really bad life decisions after shouyou's death and ends up running away to the tower. the tower is completely unapproachable unless you join the naraku so he. joins the naraku. he knows the blood is bad news but he's determined to find out utsuro's plans and try to find a way to kill him before he destroys the world or whatever. he hangs on through the power of Promise

blood bonds make you love the vampire whose blood you drink as much as you're capable of loving anyone in the world. normally this means ghouls are unable to raise a hand against their masters but you see, gintoki is Guy Who Kills People He Loves More Than Anyone In The World, which is why this au exists

however he does rapidly become very pathetic about wanting to see utsuro because he. is living in the same building as him for 10 years but only sees him a handful of times because it's scary and awkward to go up (this is funny to me). also every time he sees him his sanity depletes

oboro deeply hates and resents gintoki for putting him in a position where he has to look out for him and almost-not-really-but-sort-of defy utsuro's will in doing so. also just like in villain au he resents gintoki for running to join the Bad Place when oboro burned his whole life down because he wanted to be in the Good Place so bad and gintoki was there instead. so. also gintoki is ruining everything shouyou died for

again like in villain au sakamoto is the only guy who visits gintoki regularly. this is because he decides to become one of the cult's donors. because there are people who don't become adherents but who are investors and donate money because ummmm well it's a cult. so sakamoto is allowed to like, attend fundraiser events and blood moon ceremonies or whatever.

he actually hates visiting the tower because the whole place actually has a soulsucking effect for real. like it's really bad actually. he still shows up and buys gintoki motivational posters for his utterly depressing blank-walled dorm room.

sakamoto has to watch gintoki's personality and sanity rapidly erode over the years. hooray. eventually all that's left of gintoki is his singleminded obsession with fulfilling his promise to kill utsuro, with his ability to differentiate between utsuro and shouyou also becoming nebulous because. well. they have the same blood (when takasugi said the Thing in the final arc i was like hey. wait a minute)

the au has an unfortunately much more limited cast capacity bc it's RP and we're just two people

unlike in villain au. takasugi does very very occasionally see gintoki during the 10 years due to the fact that gintoki is literally just walking around downtown doing stuff for the naraku. like sometimes he'll just. bump into him (funny to me). and he wants to be like gintoki come back to gusu with me. but gintoki's world has become very narrow

utsuro is connected with crows (very vague gangrel affiliation but like we played pretty loose with that especially since he's so old) so there's an aery in the building filled with crows who drink vampire blood and gintoki has spent many an hour cleaning up their poop

when utsuro is finally defeated (leaving a giant hole in the middle of the city but don't worry about it) gintoki basically finally collapses because he doesn't need to hold on anymore but takasugi takes him in and tries. with a lot of frustration. to take care of him (he's not very good at this)

eventually the only thing that ignites even a dim spark of interest in gintoki is when surviving crows from the tower start visiting him out of curiosity. takasugi haaaaaates crows he's like old man shooting at birds on his lawn. except he can't shoot them because they make gintoki actually perform actions (in this case, chopping up premium beef for them even though takasugi is sure oboro would feed them anyway. this makes takasugi have to grapple with the concept of "grocery shopping" for the first time in his life, which he's also resentful of). okay he did kill a few on some occasions. gintoki was Very upset (good sign? maybe?)

takasugi wants gintoki to recover and does think that upset is better than Complete Emptiness. however every time gintoki is upset takasugi is like throwing up in his bathroom. this IS gintoki's fault

branching timelines, one where oboro survives and one where oboro dies

i have to emphasize that on the rare occasions where utsuro goes to meet prospective human investors who are completely clueless about the whole vampire cult thing he's dressed in an expensive suit with a raven-feather cloak draped around his shoulders and the feathers are from an older corvid species that no longer exists

every night he stares out at the city from his penthouse floor-to-ceiling glass windows and is like :) i hate the fucking city.......

oboro does, in fact, work during the day. he's powerful enough that he doesn't need to sleep during the day and that he won't die from the sun. however it fucking hurts like hell and he hates it. but it's human business hours. he also works during the night during vampire business hours. he also doesn't eat anything and hasn't eaten for like a thousand years. oboro is NEVER having a good day

you have to picture vampire hunter takasugi okay when he can get off his ass and bother gearing up against post-series it's a leather jacket, leather pants, belts around his limbs for no reason, fingerless gloves, the whole thing . that's what he looks like

hadestown "wait for me (reprise)" AMV utsuro "i let them try" too too too real it's what this au is all about.

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cleflink · 2 years

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4 and 11, I beg 😳

I am delighted to return the favour! Thank you for playing! <3

4. DCMK-danny phantom AU

How could I not make a halfa-Kaito story? HE AND DANNY USE THE SAME FUCKING PUN FOR THEIR ALTER-EGOS. *flails* Also, I love ruining Shinichi’s day with highly improbable truths.

"Look." KID's hand settled on Shinichi's shoulder in a grip that was gentle and yet still, somehow, completely unshakable. Much stronger than it should have been, given KID's general physique. "If it was up to me, I'd stay here and play chase with you all night. But there's something I have to do. So, for the first time in your life, I'm going to need you to actually listen when you're told to stay out of something. I like you alive, got it, Tantei-kun?" Without waiting for a response, KID dropped his hand and straightened to his full height. Some intangible weight settled visibly over his shoulders and he nodded, once. "It's Showtime," he murmured. And then he vanished. Shinichi startled badly. How the-? He swept his hands through the space KID had just been occupying. Nothing. But KID had just been touching his shoulder, so it couldn't have been a projection. This was just another one of KID's magic tricks. Shinichi didn't know how he'd done it - yet - but he'd figure it out.

11. DCMK-my neighbour kaitou kid

Not actually a Totoro AU, despite the file name. Instead, it’s a no-Black Org AU where Shinichi lives in the apartment next to one Kuroba Kaito, who’s almost certainly an international art thief (not that anyone is listening to Shinichi about it).

Two interconnected snippets, because the bit in the middle doesn’t exist yet, oops.

Shinichi stared blearily at the cheerful - obnoxiously awake - Kuroba standing on his door mat, and wondered if he was still dreaming. "You want me to what?"

"Look after my birds for me?" Kuroba somehow managed to make it sound like a statement and a question simultaneously. "I have to go out of town for an emergency, and I need someone to feed them, unless I want to get dive-bombed the minute I get home."

How was this his actual life?

"You're asking me - a detective - to go into your home and look after your birds when you know I think you're Kaitou KID?"

"Yep!" Kuroba said cheerfully.

"And you don't think that's a dumb idea?"

Kuroba shrugged, hooking his hands behind his head in a staggering display of nonchalance. "Well, I'm not KID-sama, so it's not like there's anything to find even if you do ransack my apartment. Just put everything back where you found it when you're done, yeah?"

---

"So," Kuroba said brightly. "Did you find anything interesting in my underwear drawer?" He spoke entirely without recrimination, as though people going through his belongings was both normal and expected. He wasn't even looking at Shinichi as he spoke, too distracted with dishing food onto the plates. Shinichi glared at him anyway. "You know very well that I didn't." Kuroba sighed mournfully. "Really? Damn. Most men find black lace attractive." Shinichi immediately turned red enough to stop traffic. Because he had looked in Kuroba's underwear drawer, and the asshole absolutely wasn't exaggerating.

"If you have preferences, feel free to share!" Kuroba continued, utterly shameless.

Ask me a question!

#ask game #wip meme #working on it #dcmk #my fic #kaishin fic

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litchihikxriclub · 1 year

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This is all in middle school, right? So in the “everyone lives” au, do these kids just like… go to high school? I can see some dropping out, but would they still remain in contact without a school club around?

You don’t have to answer both questions. I really love your writing, thank you for posting it!!

Yep! The prequel starts out with them at age 10–11-ish, and by the main manga, they're in their second year of middle school. And yeahhh... dropping out after middle school is definitely a common thing in Keikou. High school isn't mandatory in Japan, and I can imagine a number of the boys just... wouldn't bother. It's easier to make money and support themselves and their families if they're working full-time, so yep, dropping out is going to happen. oAo

And yeah, I'll answer both questions!! o3o

. . .

Zera

Finishing school is really the best he can hope for. Post-Hikari Club, Zera doesn't have a lot to rely on. He's more or less friendless (outside of Nico and Jaibo's attempts to be around him), and also so utterly ashamed of everything that happened in the club's final days that he'd just as soon never face any of them again. As much as he despises the idea of living a pointless, dead-end life like everyone else in Keikou, he doesn't have other options. Going to a semi-decent college would be the best thing possible, at this point, so Zera resigns himself to that fate.

Nico

Considering that he was working a part-time job (and probably forced to by his mother) when he was eleven-ish, I doubt he's making it through high school. Nico drops out as soon as he can, because making enough money to eat on a semi-regular basis ranks higher in his life than finishing school. If his relationship with Zera isn't completely ruined by that point, he'd try to stay in contact, but other than that and Tamiya's insistent attempts to reach out, Nico also cuts contact with most of the club. He has bigger things to worry about than his old friendships, after all.

Raizou

He's in a good enough situation that he can afford to get through high school, even though life only gets harder for him as he grows up. Raizou has always had issues with being bullied and not allowed to be himself, and those only worsen as he nears adulthood. His dad's expectations keep getting higher, meaning that he doesn't have much of a choice in what he does. He'll stay close friends with Yakobu no matter what (those two are together for life, more or less), but after the way the Hikari Club ended, he'd just as soon avoid the rest of those scary boys from here out.

Kaneda

Unfortunately, Riku doesn't really know what he wants to do with himself. He'd like to finish high school to make his mom happy (and because he can't think of anything better to do), but there's nothing in the future that he's particularly hopeful for. He's most likely to stick close to Tamiya and Dafu— and probably base his decisions on whatever those two end up doing. He's also perfectly willing to leave the Hikari Club behind forever, and doesn't want to keep talking to any of the former members outside of his prior friends. Those years were a living nightmare, after all.

Dentaku

He's absolutely staying in school. Dentaku's skill with mathematics and engineering means that he actually has a chance (however slim) of a good job and an easier life than he grew up with. Getting through high school and passing the entrance exams to a decent college is all he can hope for, and he's relying on his talents to get him through it. He'd be willing to stay in touch with whoever reaches out, especially Zera, but he's probably not going to make an effort unless someone else does first. School is his number one focus from that point on.

Dafu

Like Kaneda, he doesn't really have any plans of his own— and he ends up following Tamiya's choices too. Katsuya hasn't figured out any personal goals yet, so sticking with his friends is really the best thing he can think to do. Of the three of them, he's the most likely to drop out of high school at some point, but that chance is still pretty slim. A peaceful life sounds best after everything that's happened (though he doesn't have much hope for himself and what the future will hold). All he wants is to get by and never have to think about how badly things could have ended ever again.

Tamiya

Once the club is gone, Hiroshi has a pretty normal life ahead of him. He has goals and plans for what to do next, and finishing high school is an obvious part of that— his parents have always prayed he'd succeed, and he doesn't want to disappoint them. Even if he's living like every other normal, boring person in Keikou, Hiroshi just wants to have a stable life. As for the rest of the club, he stays close to Kaneda and Dafu for sure, never stops trying to reach out to Nico, and keeps minimal contact with most of the others. Jaibo and Zera are the only two he really wants to avoid.

Yakobu

It's fifty-fifty on if he'll make it through high school or not. Yakobu doesn't mind the idea of finishing it, but he also doesn't have any real reason to stick around if it gets too tough. If he thinks he can find a decent job outside of school, or if his grades dip too low, there's nothing stopping him from giving up and moving on to whatever option comes next. He's one of the most willing to stay in contact with the club, as a whole, especially if the situation there never got too dangerous. Of course, Raizou will stay his best friend no matter what. Those two are near-inseparable.

Jaibo

Another definite drop-out. Jaibo has so many problems that there's a good chance he'd get himself expelled eventually, anyway. He's not stable enough to manage higher education, and he doesn't particularly care to try. He'll stick with his dad for as long as he can get away with it, all while keeping up the same disturbing practices he always has. He'll trail after Zera if the two's relationship wasn't completely ruined, but Jaibo is bound to be moving on to new targets as well— after all, he needs someone to pay for his needs once his dad gets tired of supporting him.

#Litchi Hikari Club #Lychee Light Club #Zera #Tsunakawa Hiroyuki #Nico #Ishikawa Naritoshi #Ichihashi Raizou #Kaneda Riku #Dentaku #Suda Takuzou #Dafu #Tabuse Katsuya #Yakobu #Yamada Kobuhei #Jaibo #Ameya Norimizu #Headcanon #Everyone Lives Au

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handeaux · 1 year

Text

A Cincinnati Housewife’s Career As A Novelist Was Cut Short By Censorship

As near as I can tell, not a single copy of Jean Randolph Searle’s novels is to be found in any Tri-State library, unless you count the book stacks at Anderson University, 88 miles away in Indiana.

It is ironic that many of the libraries holding Miss Searles’ books today are conservative Christian schools like Anderson, affiliated with the Church of God, Roman Catholic Carlow University in Pittsburgh, and “non-denominational conservative Christian” Patrick Henry College in Purcellville, Virginia. The irony lies in the reception her books detonated in 1912 when they were condemned by the national and local branches of the Society for the Suppression of Vice as “too utterly indecent for our young to see.”

Jean Randolph Searles was a most unlikely pornographer. In fact, Jean Randolph Searles did not exist. That was merely the pen name of Adah Viola Benz of Price Hill, aka Mrs. George Benz, mother of two daughters and wife of an apparently quite successful real estate developer.

One might assume that Mrs. Benz, married to an established businessman, had the money to pay for the publication of her two 1912 novels herself – a practice known as vanity publishing. The books credit the “Press of Jennings & Graham,” a printer affiliated with Cincinnati’s Methodist Book Concern, a publishing house and bookstore located on West Fourth Street. The wording implies that Jennings & Graham published the books, but it is likely they only printed and bound them.

The books in question are “The Girl In The Slumber Boots” and its simultaneously published sequel, “Further Annals of the Girl In The Slumber Boots.” Although the books deal with marital infidelity and its consequences the (shall we say) “mechanics” of this infidelity are buried in baroque prose that relies ponderously on innuendo and not at all on forthright exposition.

In brief, Nell, the titular girl in the slumber boots (heavy knit slippers made to wear to bed) is unhappily married and walks in her sleep. One morning, she finds herself in the bed of an unhappily married doctor who leaves his apartment door unlocked. When Nell enters his darkened room in the wee hours, he thinks she is his wife and has his way with her. Somehow, this activity does not rouse the somnambulist and it is only when she awakens hours later that the full import of her transgression inspires her to action. Drama and trauma ensue, involving British gentry, ruined damsels, misadventures out West and the shenanigans of high society.

According to Alfred Segal at the Cincinnati Post [26 November 1929], the Society for the Suppression of Vice may not have even read the book. Their censorious ire may have been directed toward the illustration opposite the title page:

“It showed a woman in a nightgown confronting a man in a bathrobe. Her hand seemed to flutter towards her face in fear. He stared at her with the glum expression which men on old-fashioned posters frequently had. That was too much for the purity of the day. The book officially was ruled out of the stalls and sent back to the author.”

None of the Cincinnati newspapers reviewed “The Girl In The Slumber Boots.” One of the few published reviews, from the Monroe City, Missouri, Democrat [12 December 1912] is more than a little vague in its appraisal:

“It is too bad that anyone capable of writing as interesting a story as this one spoils it by taking the wrong view of what is right and what wrong. To be sure she straightens out matters in the second volume, Further Annals of the Girl In The Slumber Boots, but she doesn’t look at life right. The books are not wholesome – are not what we would want our young people to read.”

Well, that was in 1912. By 1929 – only 17 years later! – when the Post’s Segal interviewed the author, times had changed. Hemlines had skyrocketed from floor-length to knee-length. Women now smoked in public, for goodness’ sake. The new morality was reflected in the racy novels of the Roaring Twenties. As Segal explained:

“Words that would have been strange to the Slumber Boot Girl were sprinkled all over the pages. Details which she would have locked forever in her heart were shouted in black type. The erstwhile author thought perhaps her hour had struck. If she had written naughty things (with indecent pictures) too early in the century, she now could make up for it.”

Mrs. Benz, by now living on Shiloh Avenue in Clifton, took copies of her books downtown to Fourth Street, to Bertrand L. Smith, proprietor of the Traveler’s Book Shop, later to be known as Bertrand Smith’s Acres of Books.

“Smith glanced at the ‘indecent’ pictures and smiled sadly. He skipped through a few lines of the intimate passages and smiled still more sadly. ‘Madame,’ he said, ‘this ain’t nuthin’.’”

Smith accepted Mrs. Benz’s books and put them on sale. Buyers told Smith it was a relief to find decent books still for sale in Cincinnati. Still, Mrs. Benz would not allow Al Segal to print her real name for fear the taint of prior condemnation might still adhere to it.

George Benz died in 1937. A couple years later, Adah Benz revived her pen name and published another novel, “Only A Substitute Wife.” This time, the book was actually accepted by a legitimate publisher, Ruter Press, who also issued books of Caroline Williams’ artwork. Adah’s third novel appears not to have sold well and copies are hard to locate.

Adah Viola Rohrer was born in Elkhart, Indiana, in 1872 and married George Benz, a young and ambitious carpenter, in 1896. The young couple moved to Cincinnati in 1906, where George, in partnership with Sherman Weigold, built and sold a good number of houses in the northeast portion of Northside. Both George and Adah, aka Jean Randolph Searles, are buried in Goshen, near Elkhart, Indiana.

Adah’s books, while not preserved in Cincinnati, are on file in the Library of Congress and perhaps a dozen other libraries. They can be located online, where original editions fetch $70 or more.

#adah viola benz #jean randolph searles #girl in the slumber boots #cincinnati women #bertram smith

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itsbrandy · 6 months

Text

Burnout Dieter POV 2

Summary: Takes place between chapters 9 and 10

Word Count: 8.3k

Dieter floated through the rest of his day. From interview to interview, he put on his best show of not being a totally hopeless, utterly lost lovesick puppy. The questions were all the same: easy softballs to launch, and the interviewers were well-trained and professional, but there was something about his experience with Bee that had something intangible. Something other.

Something that Dieter worried might have ruined promotional interviews for him for the rest of his life.

After his day and by the time he’d navigated through the familiar stop-and-go of L.A. traffic, he already had a mental list of ways to see Bee again. The list was totally insane, and there wasn’t a single good option on it, but Dieter was desperate.

He wanted to send her something at her work or show up there. Some grand gesture, something to make her see him. Flowers or a cake or maybe a request for another tour? Maybe he could do something subtle and send her a letter. That way, she could open it privately.

Plus, he’d have to include his phone number if he wanted Bee to get in touch with him afterward. As much as he liked her from their brief interactions, he wasn’t sure if he could trust writing his private cell number down like that. The chances that a receptionist or office assistant opened the mail at the office and sorted it were too high.

So, Dieter pictured all the possible outcomes. Some were positive, and some were negative, but at the end of his pro and con list was one glaring issue: Bee could turn him down—she was still in a relationship, after all.

And that was it. He couldn’t contact her. Not while he knew that she was still in a relationship. Dieter readied himself for bed with the weight of his decision sitting on his chest.

Still, the Google search bar called his name. He wanted to know more about her, even if he couldn’t have her. But all he had was a nickname. He wouldn’t even know how to find her.

Instead, he Googled “how many people in LA,” and when the search result showed 3.849 million, he locked his phone and rolled over. Unless there were some act of divine intervention, Dieter would never have a chance with Bee.

On a whim, right before he closed his eyes and fell asleep, he texted his agent.

[Dieter]: Do you think Disney would be open to a part two? Had a great time today.

The next two days were miserable. He was late to an interview on Thursday and completely forgot about a photo shoot on Friday that he made it to on time only by the goodwill of no accidents on the freeway. But Dieter wasn’t familiar with this feeling—was he depressed?

Dieter had been ignoring his phone, and by the time he’d made it back to his house on Friday evening, he hadn’t checked his email all day. He didn’t feel up to cooking. As soon as he’d thought about cooking dinner, he wondered if Bee was as good of a cook as she was a baker. While he knew that the skills didn’t always necessarily translate, he couldn’t help but be romantic when he thought of her.

Most of his emails were boring, and for many of them, he simply clicked so that the notification would go away. He had no idea why so many people copied both him and his agent on interview and audition offers. If there were anything worth his time, his agent would let him know.

Further down in his inbox, a message caught his eye. It was from Sam, the director of the Netflix project he was going to be working on next.

Hey Dieter,

Attached is a list of actresses who will be auditioning for us in person tomorrow at HQ.

We’ve got a new list of options for you to look at for Celine. Some of them have headshots, and some of them have video auditions also.

There are also some other minor roles included. I’ve marked those. Take a look and let me know what you think!

Thanks,

Sam

“Finally,” Dieter said aloud.

Forgetting about his takeout, he headed straight for the stairs to retrieve his laptop from his bedroom and take a look at the options. Everything about this project hinged on finding the perfect leading lady for the brand. She had to have the wow factor they were looking for. Otherwise, what were they even doing this for?

There were 12 files attached to Sam’s email. Dieter was a big believer in “eating the frog,” or doing the most difficult task first. So, he started with the video auditions.

They were all awful. No, that was harsh. They weren’t awful. Each of the women had talent, and it was clear they were chosen to audition this weekend for a reason. But again, none of them had that star quality. There was no emotion in the way they spoke, and the words didn’t quite reach their eyes.

Dieter felt guilt for judging the women so quickly by the way they looked, but it was what set the Bridgerton series apart. The casting was race-blind, filled with unique beauty and not the standard Hollywood look that everyone was used to seeing.

Next, he turned his attention to the headshots. While looking at headshots wasn’t a great way to see if an actress would be a good fit or not, he could still make a determination based on look.

The first headshot was an alright option. The actress was only 22, but she could definitely play older. She was Black and had expressive eyes that were more than capable of telling a story.

Dieter could also picture her in the costuming for the period. He wrote her name down in his notes as his favorite so far. He’d be excited to see her audition in the morning. Hopefully, she aced the screen test—they needed to cast someone quickly.

He navigated to the next option, finding the headshot and information of a white girl with brilliant red hair and freckles. She had an angular nose rather than the typical button nose of Hollywood, so Dieter thought she was an okay option as well. Dieter listed her as another potential option.

This batch of auditions would be very interesting. The casting agents were finally giving them exactly what they’d asked them for. Rather than feeling dread at the early morning call time, Dieter was excited, and he still had two more headshots to go.

The third headshot made Dieter dizzy when he looked at it. The actress was stunning, effortlessly beautiful. She was Asian, with sleek black hair. But best of all, or perhaps worst of all, Dieter knew her.

The woman in the headshot was Bee. Even though she wasn’t wearing her Disney uniform or primped with camera-ready makeup, she was Bee. There was no doubt in Dieter’s mind. And when he checked the details alongside the photo, he saw her first and last name proudly displayed. Except, the first name listed wasn’t her first name.

She’d listed Bee, the nickname he revitalized for her from her childhood. It almost felt like she was communicating with him. Her childhood dream was to become an actress. What was it she’d said in the interview?

“Yeah, but of course, it doesn’t work out that way for everyone. Dreams change, and my dream changed to making amazing creations for Disney lovers of all ages,” she had said.

So then, what are you doing in my list of auditions tomorrow, Bee? Dieter thought.

There was no way she knew he was involved in the project and magically scored an audition just to see him again—that was just too farfetched.

What was this then? Was this the divine intervention he’d been waiting for?

He put Bee at the top of his list without a second thought. She’d need to prove herself in the audition, but she’d caught his eye more than anyone had ever before. Bee fit every item on his list of qualities needed for the role of Celine—every single one.

He closed his laptop without looking at the fourth and final headshot and typed out a message to Sam on his phone.

Hey Sam,

These options are incredible. I’m so excited for the auditions tomorrow. This batch is definitely better than the previous one. Do you think we can do screen testing for chemistry too tomorrow?

Let me know,

Dieter

It was selfish to ask for chemistry testing just because he knew Bee was going to be there. He knew it was, but if she made it through the first round of auditions, the next round would be chemistry testing anyway, and he was too excited to wait. If he was going to see Bee again tomorrow, he wanted to have the chance to act with her.

Sam responded right away with a simple I know, right! And sure, a screen chemistry test sounds great. We should have enough time.

Dieter typed back Great! and set his phone upside down on his bedside table. If he picked it up again, he’d do something stupid like Facebook stalk her or text a friend about her. He needed to focus. His takeout was getting cold downstairs, and he needed to prepare himself to meet his dream girl for the second time this week.

When Dieter awoke on Saturday for a day full of casting at the Netflix HQ, he had a text from his agent. The Disney bakery follow-up segment had been approved by higher-ups. He’d almost forgotten about the request he’d sent his agent to look into it. It was a last-ditch effort to try to see Bee again, but now it was totally unnecessary.

Today, he would see Bee. She would show up for her audition, and she’d knock it out of the park and then—

Well, he wasn’t certain what would come after that. What were the odds that she’d broken up with her boyfriend in the last three days?

Dieter knew that he was attractive. He was obviously a catch, but he wasn’t worthy of ending a long-term relationship over, even if that relationship was on the rocks. So, maybe he could be her friend instead. That would satisfy his curiosity, at least. And then maybe if he waited it out, then he could be there for her when she made her choice.

If they stayed together forever, he would have to be okay with that too.

Ugh, when did he get so hopeless? Unrequited love was so not Dieter’s thing. Hell, love wasn’t even Dieter’s thing. He was sure he wanted to fall in love someday, but he’d never put much thought into what love would look like for him. As a celebrity, things were different.

People coupled and uncoupled regularly just for the headlines more than they married as a true love match. He would probably date an actress here, a musician there, have a couple of star-powered children just to make a legacy, and then work until he died.

But what if that didn’t have to be his fate? What if Bee achieved her dream of becoming an actress and then she chose him? Then, he could marry for love and have kids that weren’t just for the purpose of staying relevant. He might be able to have a family—a real family.

Dieter showered and prepped himself to see Bee. He needed to be there early to help Sam and Claire anyway. This audition was a make-or-break for the show. If they weren’t able to cast anyone this week, the show was at risk of being dropped by Netflix.

He drove to the studio and made it there before 9, with plenty of time before the auditioner’s call time to get his bearings.

They were casting several roles today, with Celine being the priority. The smaller roles didn’t matter nearly as much as the leading lady.

Dieter watched as the production crew set up the cameras for the day. Each audition would be recorded and reviewed separately to see if the actors could convey to the camera what they showed off for the room.

Then, he sat in his assigned seat and waited for Claire, Sam, and the others to show up.

When they did, Dieter greeted Claire, Sam, and the other producers and settled in for a long day of watching prospective actors try their hand at landing a huge role in a Netflix show.

The first round of auditions was primarily for the smaller roles in the show, followed by a trio of auditions for Celine. Two of the three had submitted video auditions that Dieter found lackluster, but their in-person performances were better. Still, they didn’t quite have the uniqueness that they were looking for.

When Sam asked if the first two were ones he was interested in performing a screen chemistry test, he declined. They were desperate to cast the role of Celine, but they weren’t that desperate. The third Celine audition was much better. She was the freckled redhead who only submitted a headshot.

For her audition, they went forward with a compatibility test. She was almost as tall as him, and they looked awkward in the frame together when Dieter reviewed the footage afterward. No, she wouldn’t do either.

By then, it was nearing 11 a.m., and Dieter was starting to grow anxious that Bee would be arriving soon. They broke for a union break and ducked behind one of the screens to get away from the view of auditioners. Dieter tried his best to spend time reconnecting with Claire and Sam, settling in for what would be months of filming out of the country.

He liked Claire, remembering her fondly from their shared years in the spotlight. Sam was one of his favorite directors, and soon they were easily cracking jokes and laughing until the minutes of their break were over.

“Quiet, everyone!” a production assistant yelled, signaling that it was time for them to return to their seats. “It’s time to start round two of auditions, starting with the role of Celine!”

Dieter searched for Bee as soon as he followed Claire out from behind the screen. She would be in this next round of auditions, according to the schedule, and he could feel his heart thundering in his ears.

Sam’s walkie-talkie went off, and through the muffled speaker, a PA asked if someone could let Dieter know that a compatibility test was needed on this audition. Of course, it was.

Dieter hadn’t been the only one to notice Bee’s unique beauty. The higher-ups at Netflix had too—and she was their favorite.

His palms went sweaty at the thought. Which scene would they pick? Would he have to kiss her?

Why was he so excited for it? She had a boyfriend—he couldn’t be excited about kissing a taken woman. But yet he was. He was just so curious about her. Despite his reservations, he still wondered what her lips would feel like against his, how she would taste, how she would smell.

And then he saw her. Bee was walking with an assistant, who was guiding her toward them. Her head was held high, so confident that Dieter almost didn’t recognize her. She smiled effortlessly and walked in front of the white backdrop to film her audition.

“Hello, everyone, my name is Bee, and I am auditioning for the role of Celine. I am currently represented by Mark Carter,” she said.

Dieter had to think to avoid letting his jaw drop open unconsciously.

Sam was speaking to her, giving her instructions on which side to read, but Dieter couldn’t even hear her. It was like there was the fuzziness of a TV without a satellite signal in his brain. Claire stood up from her seat and joined Bee in front of the camera, and Dieter suddenly realized which scene they were doing. He sat still, trying to keep his face neutral as he followed along with the script and watched them portray the scene.

Immediately, he knew that Bee was good.

He’d wished, for her sake and for his, that she’d pursued her dream of being an actress sooner. She was flawless—punctuating each word that needed emphasis with the exact emotion that the scene called for. Her eyes were glassy with emotion, filled with the anger that Celine had built up, the frustration she had with her closest friend.

Bee shook her head and rolled her eyes in a way that sent chills down Dieter’s spine.

“You’re selfish, Willa. You want me to believe I can’t marry him so that you can instead. Well, you can have him.”

“Thank you, ladies,” the director said—interrupting the scene midway through. They usually only did that when they didn’t like what they saw. “Can we move to the next side, please? Number 4?”

Dieter panicked. He didn’t know Side 4. He’d only prepared one scene for today’s auditions. He was a good actor, sure, but even good actors had limited brain space for characters and lines. There was only so much a human could remember.

“They weren’t asked to prepare for that one,” one of the producers piped up.

“Well, can someone get me two scripts, please?” Sam asked, snapping her fingers. “One for Bee and one for Dieter. I need to see them both in this scene.”

Sam sounded eager, and Dieter knew exactly what that meant. He was on the same page.

Bee had been far and away, the best audition they’d seen for Celine so far. Her interaction with Claire was on point. Her look was divine.

“I guess we could’ve just given them the other printouts, but I love the look of a good old-fashioned script binder,” Sam laughed as Dieter faced Bee, the hulking script heavy in his hands.

Bee laughed, too, and Dieter thought the sound was hypnotic.

“Which page is it?” Bee asked.

“I think it’s 57. Let me just find it,” Sam wet her fingers with her tongue and flipped through, and Dieter flipped through the pages of his own script to try to locate the scene sooner.

He was so nervous. He couldn’t look at her, but he played it cool. Maybe things would feel better when he was in character. If he were Duncan and she were Celine, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so spooked.

“Not sure if I remember this one,” Dieter said, trying to break the awkwardness.

“What? You’re not studying the script day and night?” Claire teased.

Dieter shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s too early.”

“Not for me,” Claire said. “I’m so excited. I can’t stop reading it.”

The rest of the team agreed with Claire vehemently, but Dieter didn’t. He hated overreading a script. It made him second-guess himself about how he was portraying the role.

He’d only read the pieces that were necessary for getting through these auditions so far. It wasn’t until they were closer to rehearsals that he’d start memorizing for real.

“What?” Dieter asked. “I get too nervous if I’m overprepared.”

Claire looked at him like he was crazy, and even Sam was a bit skeptical, but it was Bee who spoke up in his defense, much to his surprise.

“I actually relate to that,” Bee said. She flipped to page 57 of the script with a delicate twist of her wrist.

“See?” Dieter joked, gesturing to Bee. “I’m relatable, too.”

As soon as the words exited his mouth, he regretted them. Was he flirting with a spoken-for woman now? Or was he flirting or just being friendly?

“Okay, okay,” Sam interrupted his thoughts. “It’s actually page 58, so just one over now. Starting from where Celine says, ‘I hate you.’ And I’ll give you both a minute to read over it and make sure you kind of get the feel for it. This scene is where Duncan, aka Dieter, has stolen Celine’s dance card, which is her list of gentlemen who wish to court her for the evening. She has approached him by the lemonade station to demand it back, which is very unladylike, and as the fight occurs, Duncan decides that he thinks she is very beautiful.”

Dieter had already decided that he thought Bee was very beautiful. In fact, while Sam was speaking, he was only half-listening.

While Bee had her head turned toward Sam, listening closely to her every word, Dieter was looking at Bee’s side profile, observing every peak and valley of her face—where her cheekbone jutted out and then created the soft curve of her cheek, the gentle slope of her nose, and the curve of her chin.

“Got it,” Dieter said. “I do remember this part.”

And he did. It was a pivotal scene in the show. This was important to get right, and half the work was hiring actors who had enough chemistry. He read over the scene, noticed the spikes in emotions, and formulated a plan for how he would portray Duncan in this moment.

“I’m ready,” Dieter said when he was done reading over his lines. He looked up at Bee, but Bee kept her eyes focused on the page in front of her.

“I’m ready,” Bee said, rolling her shoulders back.

“Alright, I’ll read you two in!” Sam’s enthusiasm was almost contagious. “The music fades a bit, and we see Celine at the edge of the dance floor. Every other lady in her vicinity is being led onto the floor by a young gentleman except for her.”

“I see that my dance card is missing,” Bee said, snapping into character.

She met his eyes, and he almost broke character when holding her gaze. There was so much that he wanted to say to her. Even just so much as ‘Hi, how are you?’ or ‘Nice to see you again.’

Only the guilt and shame of knowing she had someone at home reminded him of what he was here to do.

No, Dieter. You have to focus. You are Duncan, and she is Celine, he told himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dieter read his lines aloud and gave a casual shrug of his shoulders. “Gentlemen aren’t given dance cards.”

“I didn’t give you anything,” Bee said, turning up the sass. “You know that I didn’t give it to you. I wouldn’t even add you to my dance card if my mother begged me to on her knees. So, give it back.”

Dieter smiled at her and held her eyes. It was easier this time. He refused to let himself think that she was Bee.

“Do you really have so many men on your dance card that you’ve forgotten all of their names?” he taunted.

“Maybe,” Bee said.

Her cheeks even flushed! On command!

“Are you sure?” Dieter teased. He took a step closer to her, and that vanilla cupcake scent caught him off guard. With the script binders in their hands, they were nearly touching. Did he want to touch her?

He did. He decided against his better judgment. And as his eyes scanned along the page to prepare himself for the next emotional beat of the scene, he realized that there was a kiss at the bottom of the page, and Sam hadn’t yet called for them to stop.

Would Sam stop them? This was work, after all. This was a kiss for a multi-million dollar contract. If they were testing compatibility, they might as well test compatibility. There were so many kisses scattered throughout the script.

“I am asking you to give me back the dance card that belongs to me,” Bee said, her voice low and quivering. “And if I have to continue to ask you, then soon it won’t be asking.”

“Will it be begging then?” Dieter challenged.

“No!” Bee gasped, taking a step away from him.

“Hm, that’s not as interesting as what I was hoping for then,” Dieter said. “I suppose you can’t always get what you want, though.”

“I want my dance card,” Bee said. “Give it to me, now.”

“Will you ask me nicely?” Dieter stepped toward her again, making sure there was no distance between them anymore. “Will you?”

“No, give me my dance card,” Bee said, and Dieter took another oppressive step toward her.

If Sam hadn’t stopped them already, Dieter knew that she wasn’t going to. No, they wanted to see the kiss.

“Can I propose that we make a trade for it instead?” Dieter asked.

Mentally, he was counting down the lines until he would get to feel how her lips felt, to weave his fingers through her hair. Maybe that’s not how the kiss would be on-screen—Bee would have her hair up in an updo instead of gently brushing her collarbones.

Dieter closed his binder after memorizing his next line, and he swore his body kicked into autopilot. He was a man possessed as he took another half-step toward her.

“I propose,” Dieter said. “That I get something in return for your dance card. A token of the evening of sorts.”

He took hold of her script binder, trusting that she’d done the same, and glanced ahead at the next lines. He slid the binder from her grasp and closed it before bending to drop it on the floor gently. Bee looked frightened, but her lips parted. Dieter’s pulse thundered in his neck and pounded in his head. He could hardly hear her as she delivered her next line.

“What’s that?” she squeaked.

“A kiss,” Dieter said, bending his neck to hover his face before hers. He paused for a second, giving her time to step away and call off the scene if she needed to, but when she didn’t, Dieter tangled his fingers in her dark hair and pressed his body against hers as their lips joined.

He could feel where each part of her fit against him, like the perfect puzzle piece he hadn’t known he was searching for.

And as she breathed him in and wound her arms around his neck to hold him impossibly closer, Dieter shuddered as her touch sent electricity up his spine. No one stopped them—no one yelled “CUT!” or interrupted them, so Dieter deepened the kiss, exchanging the featherlight touches of lips with firmer presses.

He couldn’t remember a kiss like this, real or on-screen. And it was just a kiss! Not anything more than that, but he kissed her like he knew her. Fuck, he was kissing her like he was Dieter, and she was Bee.

“Woo!” Sam called out, and the applause and cheers broke out amongst the people in the room. Dieter wanted to laugh—she couldn’t even bring herself to say “Cut.”

This was in the bag. Bee was Celine—Dieter knew it the moment they started the scene, but if it was a compatibility that Netflix was looking for, they were not going to find a more compatible actress for him than Bee.

Despite his wish to stay close to her, Dieter pulled his hand away from Bee’s neck and took a large step back.

“How’s that for a compatibility test?” Sam joked, jotting down a note that Dieter could only think of saying, ‘THIS ONE YES.’ “Thank you, Bee, thank you, Dieter.”

Sam continued to talk to Bee, but Dieter had to get out of there before he said something stupid. There were many options of idiotic things that sat right on top of his tongue. The brutish, male side of him wanted to ask her if her boyfriend ever kissed her like that—and how insane was that???

No, he had to get out of here. So as Sam told Bee that Netflix would be in touch with heragent, Dieter made a break for behind the screen, where he could get a grip on himself and reality.

To calm himself down, Dieter made a checklist in his mind of things that were true and false.

True:

● That kiss was the best kiss he’d ever had in his entire life.

● Bee was an amazing actress.

● Bee deserved the role of Celine.

● Bee has a boyfriend.

False:

● Bee felt the same way that he did.

● Bee and Dieter could be more than just friends.

But after a moment of taking a selfish pause away from reality to sort out his feelings, Dieter couldn’t help but feel bad for disappearing on Bee. He should have thanked her for performing with him and should have reassured her that she did great during her audition. But when Dieter returned from around the bend of the screen, Bee had already left the building.

Despite the mental list he’d just made, he still wanted to be her friend. Especially if they were to be coworkers, he needed to be kinder to her. She didn’t deserve him coming off as rude or uncaring just because he couldn’t get his damn emotions under control.

So, with the two ‘False’ entries on his list in mind, Dieter chased after her, hoping to find her still by her car. Of course, he wasn’t sure what her car looked like, but this part of the parking lot was on the small side.

Dieter stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the dry heat of Los Angeles in pursuit of Bee. His steps were hurried, taking full advantage of his long legs—until he drew up short.

Bee was parked right out front, and Dieter had only made it down the steps, and he was right upon her. He’d already planned the words out in his head—a white lie. Something along the lines of ‘Sorry, I had to take a phone call. Just wanted to tell you that you did a great job!’

Except, he’d planned to say those words to her before he saw that she wasn’t okay.

She was standing outside of her car, tears dripping down her face, snot bubbling at her nose, and her hand was shoving her key into the door lock but repeatedly missing. And despite his mental list, poor, hopeless Dieter needed to help her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Bee looked up at him. Welling tears turned her dark eyes glassy, and her nose was pink at the tip.

“I just really miss my dogs,” she choked out. The tears as they spilled over the edges of her eyes and created a river down her cheeks.

Fuck. Losing a pet is the worst. Dieter hated sad animal things, but he stood firm.

“Oh no, did something happen to them?” he asked. He tried to think of something else he could say to make her feel better. But when you lose an animal you love, there’s not much that can help to ease the pain—going to pet other dogs? The worst. Ice cream? A temporary fix.

Bee laughed, and more tears fell from her eyes as a result. “No, I just might have to give them up to my ex. It’s fine, though. It’s really not your problem.”

Ex.

Now, that word challenged everything for him. It was completely reasonable that Bee could have a different ex she was referring to. Hell, she was gorgeous. She could have most men—most people—in the world. But could this also be explained by his other theory? Could Bee have broken up with her boyfriend after the Disney promo shoot?

But giving animals up to an ex could also be a sign of something seriously wrong. Dieter set his selfish thoughts aside and focused on the woman before him.

“Oh,” he said. “Are you safe?”

“I’m safe,” Bee said. Her tears slowed. “Just a little sad, is all.”

Dieter didn’t know what to say. If she was safe, he didn’t need to help. If she was sad, he could help, but he couldn’t do much without blurring the lines and boundaries he knew needed to be put in place.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I just wanted to let you know that I think you killed it in your audition, Bee,” Dieter said. “I think you are a really good fit for the part.”

“There’s more to audition still,” Bee said with a shrug. “But thank you.”

She was right. There were more auditions for the role of Celine, but Dieter doubted any of them would hold a candle to her performance. Dieter couldn’t tell her as much. There were too many people involved in the decision of casting for him to get her hopes up like that. It wouldn’t be fair, especially if it were something as silly as paperwork that denied her the role.

But at the same time, Dieter did want to give her hope. She deserved to know how he felt about her performance.

“Don’t be humble,” he said. “I really think that this role was made for you. I’m going to recommend that they cast you, just so you’re prepared.”

“Wow, thank you, Dieter. I don’t even know what to say,” Bee said. She wiped at the tears on her cheeks to dry them off.

“Well, it’s not for certain, but I just thought you should know that I think it should be you. Even if you don’t get it, I want you to keep going. I could even text you the projects I’m auditioning for. I really want to work with you sometime,” Dieter said. He hadn’t planned it, but he couldn’t help but ask. They could be friends. That’s all they needed to be. He pulled his phone from his pocket. “What’s your number?”

Bee looked unsure as she said her number, which only confirmed Dieter’s doubts. She definitely still had a boyfriend. But they would be friends. He could help her with the industry and still get to see her.

She deserved that much. She had talent, and her dream job was well within reach.

“Got it! I’ll text you so you have mine,” Dieter said. “Get home safe, okay? And let me know if you need any help with your dogs. I might be able to pull some strings.”

He didn’t have any dog custody lawyers on file, but he did have a lawyer and a scary security guard he knew. But even though his offer of help was weak at best, Bee started crying more.

“Thank you,” Bee said. “That really means a lot to me, Dieter.”

“It’s really nothing,” Dieter said with a wave of his hand. “Anything for a friend.”

Dieter had to say it out loud because if he didn’t call her his friend, he worried he would scare her off. What he really wanted to do was hold her close like he’d just done in their scene. He could kiss it better. They could talk about her ex and how much of an asshole he was until dawn, for all he cared.

“Thank you,” Bee repeated. “I really appreciate you, Dieter.”

The words took his breath away, but so did the frantic text messages coming through from Claire and Sam.

[Claire]: Where are youuuuuuuuuu?

[Sam]: Next Celine is waiting on you.

[Sam]: Hello?

[Sam]: Gotta stay on schedule, Dieter.

He typed out a quick “Be right there.”

“And I appreciate you, Bee. I gotta get back inside. You take care,” he said.

He waved at her this time, guilty that he had to go so soon and leave her with her tears and stressful situation. He’d rather skip the rest of the auditions to help her. There was no way they would recommend another Celine for casting. Okay, maybe there was a way. There was still a chance that Sam liked another actress better than Bee—but still.

Dieter made his way back inside and made sure to text Bee so she had his number in case she needed anything.

[Dieter]: Hey, Bee! It’s Dieter. 🙂

Her response came quickly, as the next Celine was receiving instructions from Sam on which side to perform. He felt guilty checking his phone, but he couldn’t resist making sure that Bee had given him the correct number.

[Bee 🐝 ]: Hey! I’ve got your number saved now. Thank you for being so kind!

He texted her back immediately, needing to put his phone away before the actress began.

[Dieter]: Hope we get to work together on this project! Fingers crossed.

And that was the last time he’d had a moment to look at his phone until the afternoon rolled around. There were other actresses he was asked to perform with for compatibility purposes, but none of them were as good as Bee was, and Sam always cut off the scene before they made it to a spot where a kiss was indicated in the script.

He thought she had it in the bag, which was great news for Bee, but Dieter was starting to second-guess his excitement. Of course, he wanted her to get the role. He wasn’t the type of guy to selfishly wish bad outcomes on a person just because they were taken. But still, now, he wasn’t so sure if it was a great idea for him to be in such close proximity to Bee over months of filming and making out for the camera.

Dieter sent Bee a text after the conclusion of the last Celine’s performance. She was a bottle blonde who put on an overaggressive British accent for her audition that sounded like a caricature more than a character.

[Dieter]: I still stand by it. The best audition of the day. How’s your afternoon going?

There were still more auditions to go for the other minor roles, so Dieter sat and observed them while he waited for Bee to text back. Claire took off halfway through the second half of the audition day. Something about a family emergency, and before she left, they briefly discussed the role of Celine.

“I think Bee,” Sam said.

“Absolutely,” Dieter agreed. “I don’t think anyone else came close.”

“That was some kiss,” Claire said. “But I think she’s great for it. For full disclosure, I sort of have become personal friends with her in the last few days. We have the same agent.”

Claire looked at him as if she knew something when she spoke, but Dieter thought better than to fess up about asking for Bee’s number after the audition. There was no foul play here. This was Hollywood.

Everyone knew each other, kissed each other, and slept with each other. Hell, nepo babies were less than a joke and more of a reality. Besides, no one could even make an argument that Bee was favored for the role because he and Claire knew her. She was just that talented.

After Claire left, he continued to monitor his phone for a response from Bee. She never did reply, though, not through the hours of auditions or Dieter’s drive home or even around dinner time. He started to grow worried. Was it him, or was it her? Was she okay, or was she just not that into him?

Sam called him around 6 p.m. to let him know that Bee had won the role of Celine, and Dieter only felt dread. Still, he asked Sam if he could be the one to break the news to her, and Sam agreed.

If only she would text him back.

By the time it started to get dark out, he decided he should text Claire and ask just to make sure she was alright. In his defense, she had reported some concerning circumstances when they’d last spoken. It was well within his right to double-check and make sure that she was okay.

Besides, he had good news for her—news he wanted to be the one to share to cheer her up if she was still upset. He was sitting at his kitchen counter, putting off making dinner, when he finally typed out his message to Claire.

[Dieter]: Hey, I just wanted to know if you knew if Bee was okay. I spoke to her after the audition earlier, and she seemed a little upset.

Claire started typing immediately, and Dieter held his breath in his chest while he awaited her response. The message came through with a chime that startled him, even though he knew it was coming.

[Claire]: Yeah, she’s okay! It’s been a tough day. She crashed on my couch.

On Claire’s couch? Why is she at Claire’s house and not at her own? He couldn’t ask that, though. Instead, he asked if he could come over. That way, he could see her in person and be the one to make her day. Maybe he would even make her life. This was the role of a lifetime.

He’d never been to Claire’s house, but they had hung out plenty at parties for other projects, award shows, and general Hollywood shenanigans. Dieter liked Claire. She was fun and friendly, and she didn’t mind that Dieter preferred to stay away from getting close to Hollywood types.

[Dieter]: What a funny coincidence. I have news for her. Do you think I could come over to share it?

Claire’s response was a bit delayed, and he imagined the two of them squabbling over it.

[Claire]: Yeah, as long as you don’t make fun of her for her puffy eyes. She’s been crying, but she seems okay now.

But then Bee’s text came at the same time, and he knew that Claire and Bee were definitely talking about him. It made him nervous. Butterflies in his stomach, nervous.

[Bee 🐝 ]: Sorry! Long day, I crashed on Claire’s couch unexpectedly. I’m glad to hear it, though.😀 How was yours?

The text made his heart soar, but Claire’s message was much more important to respond to. If he could see her, then he could tell her that she got the role. He’d be the one to save the day.

[Dieter]: I promise I won’t. I figured something was up. When I talked to her earlier, she was crying too, but I’ve got news that will cheer her up, hopefully.

[Claire]: By all means, come on over then.

In the next message, Claire sent the address to her condo, and Dieter rushed to the bathroom to look in the mirror. He looked alright. A little tired. There were definitely dark circles underneath his eyes, but nothing that a rush of adrenaline wouldn’t fix.

He sprayed his cologne on his neck and ran his fingers through his hair before departing for Claire’s condo. It wasn’t a far drive, but with every minute that passed, Dieter’s nerves were becoming more and more frazzled.

Finally, he pulled up outside the building and parked on the street before sending a quick text to Claire that let her know he’d arrived. He still hadn’t responded to Bee’s message, and he considered doing so but then thought better of it. He’d see her in minutes, seconds, maybe. Dieter stepped out of his car and walked up to the door.

He knew what he’d say when he saw Bee, and that made him feel more comfortable. In his head, he rehearsed the line over and over so that it felt normal in his mouth.

He expected Claire to open the door, but it was Bee who stood there. Her dark hair was messy, and her eyes were puffy, just like Claire had warned him. She looked as if she’d been through hell and back, but she’d done so well in her audition.

When he realized it was Bee who opened the door, he grinned and said, “Congrats, costar.”

“Congrats?” Bee asked. She looked adorably confused.

“Breathe, Bee,” Dieter said. It was so easy to playfully tease her, just like he had at the Disney promo shoot. “Maybe you need to pinch yourself too to prove that you aren’t dreaming. Whatever you need to do, just do it.”

From the couch, Claire laughed loudly. “Surprise, bitch! You’re a star, Bee!”

Then, there was the sound of dogs barking, and Dieter couldn��t help but smile. He wasn’t sure what had transpired throughout the day, but for Bee’s sake, he hoped those were her dogs.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” Bee said.

She looked incredulous, like for her entire life, she’d doubted herself and never thought she’d be capable of securing a role like this one. Dieter remembered that feeling. He’d been there one day, young and impressionable and hopeful but also so filled with self-doubt.

Bee had talent, though. She had the look. She was born to be a star.

“Are you going to let me in, or do I have to stay outside all night?” he teased.

“Oh shit, yes, come in,” Bee said. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

You shouldn’t be, Dieter thought. You’re that good.

But he didn’t say that. He didn’t want to lay it on too thick.

“Who are the puppies?” Dieter asked. He crouched down to pet a dark brown dog who had approached him. The other one, a white, fluffy thing, was still seated atop Claire’s lap.

“They’re mine,” Bee said, and Dieter was so happy.

He didn’t want to pry, but he wanted to know everything. Why had her ex almost taken them? Why was she at Claire’s? How had she convinced him not to keep them?

“This is Fudgy, and Marshmallow is over on Claire’s lap,” she continued, pointing out who was who.

They were adorable names for adorable dogs. Named by a frustratingly adorable woman.

Claire laughed. “He’s my baby now.” She gently nudged Marshmallow off her lap and stood with a stretch. “Want something to drink, Dieter?” Claire asked, making her way to the kitchen. “I’ve got wine, beer, spirits.”

“A true Hollywood bartender,” Dieter joked. “I’ll have what you two are having.”

“We haven’t started drinking yet, so it looks like a whole big glass of nothing is in your future.”

“Well, then nothing is fine,” Dieter said. A flush rose to his cheeks. He was just trying to be agreeable.

“I’ll have a glass of wine,” Bee said, saving him from his embarrassment.

“Better to celebrate,” Dieter said to her with a wink.

She was so pretty, even after what looked to be a day of hell. He couldn’t help himself but flirt with her, even if it went against his mental checklist.

“Finally, you guys get the right idea. We’re having champagne, dammit. Bee just got a lead role in a Netflix original!” Claire shouted.

Her voice was so loud that Dieter almost worried for her neighbors before remembering that it was Saturday and it wasn’t very late at all.

“Wait, but how do you know?” Bee asked, flinching as the cork popped off the bottle that Claire had just opened. Both dogs started barking immediately but quieted with a stern shh! from Claire. “Wow, Claire, you know how to get them to behave.”

“I am mother now,” Claire declared. She poured three glasses of champagne from the bottle and distributed them between herself, Bee, and Dieter.

“The director called me. She should have texted your agent, too,” Dieter said. “I told Claire when I asked to come over, but I wanted to be the first one to tell you because we have history and all.”

History. When he said it, it sounded like he meant romantic history when he’d only meant that they knew each other from the Disney promo.

Claire caught onto the double entendre immediately and waggled her eyebrows.

“Not history like that, oh my god, Claire,” Bee groaned. “He’s talking about Disney. He came to my work, and we filmed some segments about the new Star Wars desserts that I designed.”

“It was a great time,” Dieter said. He was minimizing. It was the best time.

“Are you going to quit your job, Bee?” Claire asked, saving him by changing the subject. “You probably should.”

Dieter frowned. He hadn’t considered that Bee wouldn’t be able to bake anymore.

“You’re going to have to,” he said.

“Really? Like, actually quit it now?” Bee asked.

“As soon as this gets announced, there’s no way you’re going to be able to work there in peace. Plus, with the commitments of this project, there’s no way you’ll be at work long enough to actually get anything done,” Claire said.

Bee looked stunned and a little upset. “Wow, it’s that much time?”

“Yup,” Dieter said. “It’s part of why Netflix pays so well. You can’t really be in anything else while you’re filming for them. They don’t want too many titles coming out with your name attached when you’re working on a Netflix original. I’m in Star Wars, and this, that’s it for the next five years or so.”

“Five years?” Bee’s voice went high-pitched. “This show is going for five years?”

While Claire explained the current plans with the show, Dieter thought about how torturous it would be to spend the next five years of his life in such close proximity to her without being able to be with her. They would grow older together and further apart as they dated different people but came together each year to film lovesick characters in a fantasy world.

But then there was Bee, making a self-deprecating comment, and Dieter couldn’t help but intervene again.

“Do you think that I would take on a project that was likely to fail?” Dieter asked her, making direct eye contact with her.

She looked away, and Dieter fought the urge to put his hand under her chin and pull it toward him. He wanted to see her eyes, wanted to see what she was thinking. He wanted to tell her that she was amazing and that he’d known her for only two days, but he was already falling for her faster than he should be allowed to.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x oc #dieter bravo x ofc #agentbrandy #Dieter and Bee Universe

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slashtakemylife · 6 months

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OMG REMEMBERING THAT SHE HULK LINE ABOUT STEVE JUST MADE ME THINK HOW THEY KEEP RUINING STEVE'S CHARACTER EVEN FOLLOWING EXACTLY THEIR OWN STORY

So Steve wasn't a virgin right? Lost that V to a girl in the USO tour, right?

So let's go all the way back to Cap 1, why does Steve get no-bitches? Because he's small and skinny, get it, fair, however in that same movie we get him speaking to Peggy Carter for the first time and he says and I quote "Waiting for the right partner" and that is something that endears Peggy to him because it means Steve isn't like other men that just look for women for satisfaction, he wants a partner.

This is something that literally comes to play straight out in the movie when Peggy sees Steve kissing that girl and she mentions how quickly he found that "right partner", she literally spells it out how she now sees Steve like any other soldier that would jump at any chance to getting laid instead of looking for a real emotional attachment something that of course the movie tells us isn't true since it was the girl who kissed Steve and not the other way around and we don't see him flirt or look for women outside of Peggy to the point of carrying her picture.

This thought and their kiss, that he looked like it was his first kiss, is what reinforced the belief that Steve was a virgin because we, like Peggy, believed in him.

Aaaaand that just got bulldozed by that line in She Hulk like literally over 10 years later

That scene in Cap 1 has now become utterly useless because then looking back, by that point in the movie Steve has already lost his virginity and then he has the AUDACITY to look sheepish when he damn well knows he did in fact the moment he got jacked and women ran to him, something we also see in the movie, he immediately found his "right partner" or at least for the night.

Now if you go into White Male Logic that's probably behind this they'd go like, Oh well he just met Peggy Carter so they aren't as close as they'll be later, they just met once, he can have some ass now, he wasn't married or promised to her you know?

Ok fine! Yes, let's buy it, completely yes totally Steve doesn't have to save his V precisely for Peggy or not even until marriage, which btw at that time was encouraged right? Or at least to women so the idea wasn't far fetched and supposedly should've been honored by someone like Steve but ok also men are men, yes yes Steve can be a horny guy, he's allowed to ok? I mean he had just met Peggy Carter a handful of times ok?

Ok but also the ending of his character is how utterly devoted he is to Peggy, someone he's never even being on a date with, to the point of never actually forgetting her and at the end his perfect ending is finally living his dream of being with the woman he loves and never forgot and is so devoted he decided to leave everything behind and "have a life" with the love of his life.

Y'all don't see anything amiss at that? This is so cracked up because Steve is both Not all men while also being, Yes all men

He is so utterly devoted to Peggy to the point of choosing to literally go back in time to live a life with her while also being actually a horn dog and he totally did it with at least a girl because what man would go on tour with that amount of women that would clearly launch themselves at him and just not get laid with at least one? Amairight? We can't call Steve a man unless he at least fucked a USO girl.

You can almost feel the double standard because

Male writer: of course Steve was loyal and faithful to her, he just got a non serious fling somewhere, he's allowed that right?

Me: So it would've been the same say if Peggy also wasn't a virgin right?

Male writer fumes in anger

If Peggy Carter had been known to have another sexual partner before even meeting Steve I'm sure she would've been hated, let alone one when she'd already met Steve, after Steve is alright because clearly she had to move on and we can assume it was her husband. The idea of Peggy Carter remaining virgin til marriage or at least with the man she was to marry isn't far fetched or difficult to believe but the idea of Captain fcking America, Steve Rogers and also Male, only having sex until marriage or at least with the person he loves is something that bugles the writers or even the public at large just shows you how big double standards are and for me that way of thought is what made the writers decide to add that line and to me personally it leaves a bad taste in my mouth because I have loved Steve's character and resolve and I do like him and Peggy a lot, to have him be reduced back to "men are men" after all is just so sickening

It really boils down to "males are allowed" and also toxic masculinity that he had to not be a virgin to literally just prove a point, what point idk, idk what so bad of thinking he was

Now listen, ok I'll just take it, I don't care he fcked, he couldn't fcked all the USO girls and they could've mentioned it on screen back then, I don't care but then don't double down and try and make me believe how Steve is "different" and oh so honorable even in his private life were he is respectful of women specially to the woman he fell for and was so loyal to her that even time and space couldn't keep them away, don't try to pull that shit now

#rant #marvel rant #steve rogers

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